


Warrior and Prince

by JanuaryBlue



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Have I written Slow Burn? I think this is Slow Burn, M/M, Some angst, Some characters are only mentioned - Freeform, Spoilers: DRK questline and 4.3 patch - Potential spoilers from 4.5 on are unmarked past chapter 16, Surprise WoL YOU get feels, Surprise Zenos you get feels, WoL has multiple classes, WoL is sick of being everyone's designated hero, Zenos just wants his friend to be as excited as he is for their Ultimate Battle, depressed!WoL
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-07-10 11:50:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 101,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15948770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanuaryBlue/pseuds/JanuaryBlue
Summary: Serve... Save... Slave... Slay... You'd fought through so many to get here, traveled across continents, faced monsters and gods and ancient Allagan relics beyond that still. All to save the people who'd called you Hero, Warrior of Light, a title you'd never asked for in the first place.You're so tired of it all, you want to leave, but somehow you still cannot abandon the people who had made you serve them for so long.Zenos yae Galvus stands before you, hand outstretched in askance. He offers to take you to Garlemald, and his Legion along with him. Weary, exhausted, and unwilling to kill the only rival you'd ever had -You take it.





	1. Come with me

Dead inside, Zenos thought. Was that how he looked to others, with his perpetual boredom?

And then he realized it. Not dead; tired.

You were tired beyond belief, a blade dulled – not broken.

Zenos considered you from across the room, aware you could strike out at any second. But with the mental exhaustion he could see in your face, it was unlikely you’d move first. You were watching, waiting, as patiently as you always had. Biding your time until your enemy struck first. This complacency, the willingness to follow after others had made the first move - was this how your allies had convinced you to fight in this war that was plainly not your own?

An idea came to mind, but he was quick to brush it away as worthless. Insulting, even.

For a moment he met your eyes - hollow but hard, filled with resolve... but not passion. The notion was not entirely absurd. A hunter had to know his prey, and a hunter for sport had no interest in a wounded beast, be it a physical injury, or a wound that sapped the strength of your spirit. You were not weak for your condition – you could perhaps even defeat him – but the resignation in your face made him…

He had no words to describe it, but Zenos disliked the feeling. It would not be right to fight you. Not here. Not like this. The idea he had dismissed grew more palatable.

To take you away from here, to kindle your fighting spirit back from the brink, temper his strength with yours, and sharpen your will against his own, until it was razor sharp once more. Until you would no longer hesitate, in moments like this.

The two of you could spar, and grow stronger in equal measure like a pair of matched blades. Greater and greater heights would you both go to, until the heavens themselves were below your dominion. Only then, when you looked at him with fire in your eyes, with a real passion behind your blows… Then you would be able to fight the battle worth his life.

Until then – Zenos would not _dare_ to die without battling you at the very peak of your powers. And neither would he suffer you to grow weaker as he prepared himself, wearing yourself away in battles you had no wish to fight, but no will to refuse.

Decided, the Crown Prince made his offer. 

“I will leave, and take the Empire with me,” Zenos said, reaching out a gloved hand, setting forth his bait.

Your eyes lingered on the tips of his gauntlet – pointed, like claws.

In that single sentence he’d invalidated your comrade’s every struggle. Their desperate desire for freedom, for liberation, for _victory_. All for naught; Zenos had simply told you without prompting that he would take his Legion and go. How very worthless it was now, the blood they’d shed to get to this point…

To say nothing of the blood Zenos had shed from his _own_ men. The stunt at that tower had somehow not surprised you, knowing the man as you did. Even from the scant few encounters, you’d known Zenos would not hesitate to take the lives of his own people for an advantage. Friend and foe were just words to him; you suspected in his mind it was more like, _prey_ and _hunter_ , or _useful_ and _worthless._ Death was death, no matter who, no matter why.

And now it was true of all the Ala Mhigans who'd died to get you here, their deaths losing all purpose and meaning with just a single sentence from the Viceroy they died fighting. For whatever reason, Zenos was willing to leave anyways.

“Why?” You asked, speaking the word but not meaning it. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about the answer.

 _It won’t change anything,_ Fray hissed, _just do your job and kill him already like they told you to. **Slave.**_

Fray’s tone had lost its bite ages ago. Even your darkside had grown tired of it all, and even more tired of trying to convince you to leave. Only insults to you seemed to truly rouse Fray's anger these days.

“Because you will come with me.” Suddenly, the outstretched hand made sense. Without thinking, you took a step forward.

His lips upturned in a slight, gentle smile; a barely discernible quirk of his lips that nonetheless gave you pause. The expression was beautiful on him. Deadly.

You remembered the brutal violence Zenos had fought with, and the calculated counterplay he’d endured in turn from you. Perhaps at first Zenos hadn’t been challenged by you, but your power had skyrocketed, and soon you’d overcome that difference.

Like you had with everything else. Everyone else. Soon you’d surpass him, too. The feeling of having a rival… of being unable to fulfill the demands everyone made of you, of having an _excuse_ , for once, of having things be _different._ Someone different.

You had enjoyed it while it lasted.

 _Go with him._ Fray said, and you knew why. Fray had never wanted to do this in the first place, fight and end wars for everyone else’s sake. Fray did not want - _you_ did not want to kill the only man you had ever felt a camaraderie with. Even if he was your enemy.

 _An enemy - and for a time, one we could not defeat._ Fray said with a rare tone of satisfaction. _Now we have caught up to him, perhaps. But Zenos is more than the others. He has power like us, he understands._

In your heart of hearts, you cannot help but agree. Seize at the excuse - at  _any_ excuse to avoid killing Zenos, avoid fighting him. Stay the reckoning for just one more day...

This was insane. Alphinaud, Lyse, everyone would be shocked to see you even _consider_ this idea.

 _What do we care?_ Fray said, thoroughly unconcerned with the prospect of their disdain. _We want to go with him. **You** want to go with him. _

Fray… was right. As your darkside usually was. Considering you were one and the same, it shouldn't be too much a surprise that 

But, you’d come to fight Zenos. That was your duty – to free Ala Mhigo, as you had Doma. Hadn’t the people of that nation been grateful – and hadn’t the looks on their faces, the brightness, the smiles, hadn’t that been good enough a reward? Didn’t you want that happiness for Ala Mhigo as well?

“I came here,” you said, raising your eyes to meet his own, “To kill you.”

Zenos gazed back at you, his pleased, expectant expression unchanging, his hand still reaching for yours. “You are my one and only equal."

it wasn't a surprise to hear, somehow. Warriors like you were rare, singular, even.

Or so you had thought. Zenos, too, must have thought so, before meeting you - no, before you had risen to his challenge.

"I would accept no other." His tone is commanding, indifferent. But his smile... "Come with me.”

Something _pulled_ at you in your chest. Tugged at your heartstrings. That _smile._

 _A smile better suits a hero,_ he had said. Zenos was no one’s hero. His lips were more quirked upwards, the expression on him was anything but warm, anything but welcoming. And yet… the phrase came to mind somehow, the more your once-enemy looked at you like that.

And then you knew you wanted. Doma, Ala Mhigo, the whole of Eorzea – you’d done enough. If you could get Zenos to leave, right here, right now, it didn’t matter how you did it.

You’d saved Eorzea from primals and the Legion, you’d liberated Doma from occupation – if you could get him to leave Ala Mhigo, that would be the end of it, you owed them nothing more.

 _You never owed them anything,_ Fray whispered, and you were tired of ignoring the voice - your own voice. It was strange how Zenos had granted your darkside the strength to speak up and harry you once more. You told yourself that you had _wanted_ to save everyone you’d helped, and that was true...

But had it been worth the hardship, risking your life time and time again as though it was nothing? You didn’t want to say no.

But Fray and you had agreed. This time, it wasn’t worth the sacrifice _._ You… you really didn’t think you’d ever meet another, just as Zenos had never before met one who was his equal. This was your only chance.

You took a step forwards, and then another, your momentum grew with each step, but Zenos did not falter. His smile only widened. You took his proffered hand in yours and Zenos clasped his fingers around your wrist, pulling you forwards with confidence, away from the Hall of the Griffin.

Away from your confrontation, the friends who’d fought to get you here – _But they won’t fight alongside you,_ said Fray – and the lands you’d given your all to protect, for years. Zenos led you away and you followed his insistent lead as diligently as you had obeyed your erstwhile allies.

By the time you and Zenos got to the airship, your grip on his hand had become a clutch like iron.

He was still smiling.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Observation: There is not enough Zenos/WoL in the world.
> 
> Hypothesis: If more people write Zenos/WoL fics, there will be more Zenos/WoL.
> 
> Data: I'm gonna cry, there's never gonna be enough Zenos for me I'm so thirsty oh my gooood
> 
> Conclusion: Comment, review, kudos; if you've gotten this far you're stuck here anyways, let's all go down on this ship together :D
> 
> Edit (3-6-19): Changed some pronouns and the like to make Fray genderless. I'd been doing this in recent chapters and in retrospect it doesn't seem that difficult. The in-game Fray model still feels very much like a male, to me, but in the questline Fray is the gender of the player character.


	2. Cannot disappoint

No one had questioned your presence, or your closeness to their Prince. You suspected that nothing on earth could compel them to speak up; not while Zenos was in such a mood.

He was pleasant, or something approaching pleasant, when showing to your room.

“You may stay here for the journey,” He purred in that low voice of his. You looked at the door, then looked to him, and nodded.

Zenos tilted his head at you, eyes narrowing, unsatisfied with your response.

“I understand,” you said. Suddenly you felt _exceptionally_ awkward.

What, exactly, do you say to someone who hours ago was about to duel you to the death? This… the entire trip was going to be like this – were you even going to return?

A feeling of dread crept over you. It was an absurd offer, and your acceptance was absurd as well; how did Zenos expect you to act around him, how would he act around _you_ , now that you were no longer enemies?

Oh, no – _were_ you no longer enemies? Inviting someone who he thought of as an enemy into his home sounded _exactly_ like something Zenos would do.

“Rest well.” He told you, “You will not be disturbed until I come for you.”

Somehow, this wasn’t reassuring.

“How long will that be? I’ve only ever heard that Garlemald was very far, and only Garleans seem to have been there.” You asked, wondering briefly if Zenos would not tell you – a silly thought.

He wasn’t one for political struggles and intrigue, and he couldn’t hide the information anyways, since you were headed there.

“Several days. I will fetch you for meals. Otherwise, you may have free roam of the ship... should you be comfortable enough to traverse it.” Zenos smiled wickedly, and you could _hear_ Fray roll his eyes.

So, your former rival wasn’t entirely oblivious to your distress. That was probably a bad thing. But, perhaps it would at least make him easier to deal with.

“Where exactly within Garlemald are we headed?” You asked; you might as well try to find out now, while you were talking about it.

Zenos leaned an arm against the wall, “I have no interest in the capital. Once the Twelfth is properly garrisoned, we will retire to my villa.”

Hesitant though you were to ask, it was best to get this out of the way early.

“And your withdrawal from Ala Mhigo?”

“It takes place as we speak. My legion will be away from there by sundown tomorrow.” He gazed down at you with his lazy, knowing smile, well aware that the answer he gave wasn’t the one you were asking for.

You swallowed, unused to speaking so much. You’d been a silent warrior for long, so long. Rarely did anyone engage you in conversation these days so much and so actively.

But Zenos was clearly… eager to chat. You wouldn’t deny you found the sound of his voice pleasant, but it seemed _Zenos_ did, as well. The man never seemed to stop talking, at least around you.

“Will you face consequences for it, back home?” You said curtly, fixing your eyes on the locks of hair that trailed down his chest. Why a warrior of his stature kept his hair so long, you truly had no idea. Then again, it’s not as though _you_ had planned on using it against him in battle. Right?

A scoff preceded his response.  His hair hung forwards as Zenos leaned over to put himself face to face with you.

“Home?” He said the word with something resembling disgust.

“In Garlemald. Surely no one there will be pleased that you have withdrawn.” You did not move an inch, staring forwards resolutely, even as you were met with those brilliant blue eyes.

 “Yes,” He was so close you could feel his breath on your face, “But I do not care. I am above reproach from everyone but my father.”

Zenos really wanted to make you talk, didn’t he? Well, it’s not like you had that much else to do.

“And what will the Emperor think of this?” You asked, thinking back to what you knew of Garlemald’s ruler.

In fact… you faintly recalled meeting Varis soz Galvus. Recently, in fact; he had been emperor then.

As usual, Alphinaud had done all the talking while you had more or less just stood there, looking imposing. Preparing yourself to actually defend the Beastmen while Alphinaud decried the Emperor’s methods, as if he actually had any better idea.

 _Of course he had a better idea,_ Fray drawled, seething beneath the words, _that idea was that **we** would put down all of the Primals, and the Scions would watch it all take place from a safe distance. _

They had to avoid contact with the so-called gods. You did not need to remind Fray of the dangers of tempering, but the fact remained that no Scion besides you had ever met a Primal in battle.

Most enemies you’d faced were quite content to parley with or rage at Alphinaud or another companion of yours, as you trudged on with blood on your weapon and armor, silently obeying the Scions every will. The Emperor was not so easily distracted.

The man did remind you of Zenos. He took little interest in your companion, focusing instead on you, instead. The Emperor had told you he’d meet you again, in fact.

You stiffened, shocked at the sensation of a gloved hand against your cheek. The strange, intimate gesture had thrust you from your stupor, but also put you on alert. It took all your willpower not to avert your gaze or flinch away.

“He will think more of _you._ You are the Eikon-slayer,” Zenos said, his fingers trailing down your jaw. The metal felt cool against your skin – too cool. “Your goals and his are the same, are they not?”

“I killed Gaius, and his legion. And liberated Doma,” You listed. “To say nothing of my other clashes with Imperial forces elsewhere.”

“Gaius consorted with Ascians and destroyed his entire Castrum through the misuse of some ancient Allagan relic,” Zenos was as unmerciful in the judgement of his fellow Legatus as he was in all other things.

“As for Doma, if that nation had been of any use to us, why would I have appointed that pathetic creature as its Viceroy? Yotsuyu was meant to fill Doma with despair, to ruin the country, such as was ordered by my father.”

That part surprised you. The Emperor had _wanted_ Doma to be mistreated so badly? What had he been expecting? You did not give voice to your incredulity, but Zenos seemed to detect it. He let his hand fall from your face when you opened your mouth to speak.

“So my actions have little weight, is what you mean? Does that mean they will be dismissed so easily?”

“You have chosen to depart with me now, as an ally. Garlemald will recognize that on my command, and the Emperor will trust my judgement.”

Neither of you spoke aloud of the most likely result – eventually, the Garleans would return to Ala Mhigo.

Whatever time you’d bought them would run out eventually… And then you would be stuck deep within distant Garlemald while they waged war against your every friend and ally. Friends and allies who were now deprived of their Warrior of Light.

 _They’ll look for us. Desperately,_ Fray adds, but softly. Your darkside had encouraged you to come, after all. _Because they’ll need us. They won’t be able to do it on their own._

All these thoughts had never occurred to you when Zenos had held out his hand. Would it have made a difference, though?

“You would know the workings of Garlemald better than I,” You said, trying to keep your distant thoughts away from the conversation. There was no use turning back now.

Zenos gazed down at you now like the hunter he was, lazily, daringly. “You trust me, then, Eikon Slayer?”

You met those smoldering blue eyes without a single note of hesitation. “With my life.”

Even as you said it, you were shocked. It was true.

 _Foolish though it may be,_ Fray mused, _I just can’t see him killing us in our sleep, or while our back is turned, or taking advantage of an injury or mistake on our part… or really, in any way other than clear and open combat, one where we’re both able to give our all._

If Zenos killed you, it would be because you weren’t powerful enough to stop him. And if there was one thing in this world you didn’t doubt…

A steam of laughter erupted from Zenos, the likes of which you’d never heard before. Not a mad cackle but a laugh filled with surprisingly honest delight. Then again, this was the man who had declared himself a hunter, called his army his hounds, and named you his prey.

Perhaps you and Fray were both too far gone, and you’d just told your murderer it would be that much easier.

“Oh, it will be a pleasure to have you by my side,” Zenos said, tilting his head at you as he purred in that rich, low voice of his, “I will savor this anticipation for the coming days, Warrior. I know you cannot disappoint me.”

You… couldn’t disappoint him?

It wasn’t even possible, he meant?

 _That,_ Fray pointed out, _was probably not meant as a challenge._ It almost made you laugh; you and Fray had both wanted to take it as one.

“That was a quick judgement, considering we’re meeting now only for the third time.” It didn’t matter, it really didn’t matter, at least to you. You’d been counting the time between the seconds until you’d gotten to see him again. Until you were able to fight the one and only warrior who’d bested you.

To this you received no response. You hadn’t been expecting one. His brows drawn together in consternation, Zenos straightened and turned around, heading towards his room with little notice.

You watched him a moment, then quickly entered the door he’d lead you too, shutting it behind yourself and sighing.

It was good to have at least the illusion of personal space.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And suddenly the chapters I have pre-written are all published XD
> 
> I have at least one small arc for the next few chapters, then after that I have a few scenes sketched out... aaaand then we're off the rails!
> 
> There are other Zenos/WoL fics I'm working on, too; some of them are more oneshot-ish, the others are more multi-chaptered affairs that I have ideas for but don't know how to put into practice. This is still more or less my best one, I think, but I'll try to get another thing published in the coming days because, honestly, this pairing doesn't have nearly the attention it deserves. 
> 
> I'm so proud of myself, though! Two chapters! And this one has so much dialogue. Every time I write dialogue I feel like it's not good enough, like there's too much physical descriptions in it. But writing it with just dialogue tags gives it so much less character. I've been trying to keep Zenos in character, and I stand firmly by my interpretation of him, but sometimes I do look at what I've written and wonder if that's how he would actually put it.
> 
> Argh, the pains of writing. See you all next time, and if you can, please let me know what you think, how you feel about this whole thing. Later! :D


	3. If you could

You stood there for several moments, closing the door behind you. It was a pleasant surprise when your hand found a switch on the door that activated a locking mechanism.

It wasn’t something you’d exactly expected to find on this ship, least of all in a room where Zenos planned for you to stay. You supposed there was a way past it, in any case. Perhaps even every soldier on this ship had a security card to open the door to this room, and the lock itself was just a courtesy.

You checked the handle, idly. It wouldn’t even budge. You weren’t about to lock yourself out to see how solid it was from the outside, but it was probably equally sturdy. Garlean devices had always worked well. Then again, maybe that was just your experience with Cid Garlond talking.

Finally, you examined the room you would be staying in for the next few days. Or perhaps even weeks – it occurred to you that Zenos had only said it would be a few days until you reached _Garlemald._

Garlemald itself was not your final destination. You were headed to the Prince’s villa, which was likely some ways within the nation’s borders. He said he had no interest in the capital, so it’s possible the villa was a ways away from there, too. And, of course, the Twelfth Legion needed to be re-garrisoned.

Presumably, this room would also be representative of your living situation… for the foreseeable future, actually.

It was a sobering thought; that you had no plans to leave Garlemald, or even Zenos’s side at any point. From now on you were just… living. Doing what you wanted. Fighting who you wanted. No more quests, no more world saving.

Whatever came of that, you would deal with it as it happened.

Teleporting back to an Aetheryte in Eorzea or Doma was… possible, but there were almost certainly no Aetherytes in Garlemald, so it would be a one-way trip.

Not one you would want to take, however – these quarters in this Garlean airship, while not particularly lavish, would not be out of place in an Ul’dahn suite of good repute.

You walked across the room, cautiously removing your boots and some of the heavier pieces of armor. You placed them in an armoire quite obviously made for armor storage, eyeing a closet which you were too suspicious to open.

From further into the room you could see the door to the restroom, which was, by all standards, exceptionally large.

The floor was covered with a small, if pleasant rug. The generously large mattress was raised on a slim, tasteful metal frame, with several pillows arranged neatly against the cushioned headboard. Possibly the most surprising thing of all were the several pieces of furniture in the room other than the bed.

Looking around you saw a small sofa by the closet, a nightstand that had been on the opposite side of the bed, and even a comfy looking armchair. Kneeling down, you confirmed that all the fixtures were riveted to the ground. It _was_ an airship, after all.

Even though everything here was Garlean, this ship was under the command of Zenos. He seemed to have a fondness for other cultures; the sash around his waist that he’d worn with his armor reminded you of Ala Mhigan folk wear, and of course the man used Samurai blades.

The walls were undecorated and there was no window, but they had been painted a dark red, in contrary to the ordinary greys and blacks that had dominated outside. Overall, it was a pleasant room, a bit empty but well furnished.

If this was what the higher echelons of Garlean hierarchy got when they were on airships meant for war, just what were you in for when you got to the villa? You’d experienced luxuries every so often in your life, but never had they been so... well, Garlean.

It seems that Zenos thought well of you. Or at least wanted you to think he did. You didn’t _think_ he was prone to mind games, but with the torment he’d inflicted on Doma, you knew he was a tactician of considerable intellect.

You sat yourself down on a plush red armchair, sinking easily into it. With your armor finally off and the day’s fighting over, you relished the chance to relax and rest easy.

For once, you could.

 

Hours later, the closet seemed exceptionally tempting.

It wouldn’t be so much of an issue if the room hadn’t been utterly and completely _freezing._ Fresh off the heat of Ala Mhigo, and your own heavy armor that had been warmed by your exertions that day, you hadn’t much noticed it earlier. In your nightclothes, however, it was a different story, especially after dark.

The blanket provided was soft and clearly of excellent quality – but it was so cold you still shivered beneath it. You could try the closet, but it did not sit well with you to wear Garlean clothing.

Eventually, you knew you would new need clothes or at least the means to clean your own, but you could deal with that problem when you came to it. Or perhaps find out a solution on the way; you knew a lot of combat spells. You _had_ to know at least one that would clean clothing or have some other utility… Cleanse? Esuna?

You absolutely refused to sleep in your armor. The prospect was absurd, and the metal was probably cold as ice already anyways.

Maybe this was the mind game. Garleans wouldn’t actually keep their rooms _this_ cold, right?

 _I wouldn’t put it beneath him,_ Fray mused, but in truth neither of you suspected it.

From the little you knew of Garlemald, the nation was far to the north. As a result it was a frigid land to rival Coerthas. It would seem the Garleans had devised a way to force chilled air through the pipes of the ship and into individual rooms, keeping them cool.

Measures like this would make sense for the sweltering, miserable desert that was Ala Mhigo. But at the moment you were over the sea, and even a desert like Ala Mhigo got cold at night. Whatever measures the Garleans were using to cool their rooms, they left the airship quite brisk.

Or, in this case, downright freezing. You thought for a moment that you could see your breath in the cool air – but that was probably just your imagination.

Another option was to check the closet for more blankets. But just the idea of leaving your one and only cover to bear the cold made you shudder.

…Well, you’d learned Thaumaturgy well enough. The Soul of the Black Mage pulsed in your chest, eager to be called upon. You could start a fire.

Which would bring with it a whole new host of issues.

You were on an _airship,_ for one, it could explode if you didn’t contain it right. You could just start a general uncontrolled fire, you could kill people with smoke, since there were pipes carrying air around the ship, and not the least: you could alert your former archenemy to your situation.

The thought of Zenos knowing that you were freezing to death, and you’d enacted some sloppy solution of your own about it – risking destroying the airship in the process – filled you with a horror unlike any in recent memory.

For you to die of _embarrassment,_ of all things; it would certainly be ironic.

You shivered some more, for a few more moments, and then Fray snapped at you.

 _Get up and do something,_ Fray snarled, _are you just going to freeze here?_

No, you weren’t. You got out of bed, grudgingly putting your armor back on. The metal, as you had suspected, felt like ice against your skin. Somehow, it was still warmer than being in the bed.

You turned the door handle carefully. Quietly. Unsure where Zenos himself was, and if anyone was outside watching to see if you were going to wander the ship at night.

It would surprise you if that were true. Garleans were a disciplined, reserved bunch, and it was quite unlikely one of them would come to check up on you of their own accord. Zenos certainly wouldn’t have had you monitored.

 _Oh, he’d monitor us, all right,_ your darkside interjected, dryly.  _J_ _ust…_

Personally. That was a lot more his style. You shuddered, and though you liked to think it was from the cold, it was also from the idea of Zenos, standing in your doorway as you opened it, just… looming.

Joy filled your heart when you opened the door and found no one standing there. You might have gone into shock if he'd been there. It was, after all, the dead of night.

Leaning out, you looked left and right in a cursory examination, but the hallway is deserted. Wandering somewhat aimlessly, you tried to at least faintly keep track of the turns you’d taken to get outside.

Once you find a way out of the airship and onto some external walkway, you smiled.

As you leaned against the railing, drinking in the night air – though cool, it was warmer than the air in your room – you heard a person approaching.

Wary, you shot a look down the way. If not everyone on the ship knew that you were no longer their enemy, there could be problems. Then again, Zenos had told you that you were free to roam the ship as you pleased, so it’s not like anything that happened would be your fault.

Well, he’d _told_ you that you could go where you pleased. You would have done so anyways. Zenos had probably known that, and saw fit to give you the permission you didn’t need.

The figure appeared to be a Garlean, but one rather unlike the others you’d seen. It certainly wasn’t Zenos, but it _was_ faintly familiar.

Yes, you’d met him before. The scientist in the white coat, with the purple hair and the glasses. “Initiate Soul Extraction”. What in the Seven Hells had that all been about, anyways?

“Ah, the Echo user,” The man said as he approached you. He was smiling.

That… was not generally something people noticed about you the first time you met. Or even the second. You trained your gaze on him, ready to react to any strange, sudden movements or machines appearing.

“I have a name,” You said dryly, and told it to him. The man smiled still – did he, did he _always_ do that? It wouldn’t surprise you. Zenos did seem to attract the crazy types.

 _I could make a comment on that,_ Fray said, _but I think just the fact that you thought it was ironic enough._

As usual, Fray was right.

“Aulus mal Asina. Tell me, can you use the Echo right now? On me?” Aulus leaned in eagerly, inches away from your face, and you prepared to take a step back.

 _Crazy, no understanding of personal boundaries. I suppose this is what Zenos would be like as a scientist?_ Fray mused. The two of your summarily decided not to follow up on that line of thought.

Then you processed what he had asked.

“You… _want_ me to use the Echo on you?”

His smile grew impatient, and not a small measure condescending.

“Of course not. My evidence suggests I would not come to harm, but I have no interest in being the subject of any visions on your part. I only asked if you _could._ ” Aulus said, as though explaining this to a small child.

_Push him over the railing, then we won’t have to hear this nonsense. We are **done** doing things for other people._

The suggestion was not without its merits; Fray rightly knew that the fall, while painful, wouldn’t necessarily be lethal.

However, the freezing water below could very well be. There wasn’t any obvious way Aulus could get out of the water. It was night, he might not be noticed, and none of his weird devices appeared to be following him around.

“It’s none of your business.” You’d never actively tried to use the Echo, but you weren’t interested in trying it on Aulus, of all people.

What if you failed, and he recorded that you couldn’t use it freely? What if you succeeded, and you had to watch – whatever this damned bastard had seen in his life?

Fray was resolutely against it. _No. We’re not even going to try it. You’re completely pathetic, I can’t have you sympathizing with any more Garleans, especially not this bastard._

You wanted to deny the words, but considering you’d left everyone and everything you’d ever known because you didn’t want to kill Zenos, you didn’t exactly have a strong case for yourself.

“And here I was, under the impression you had some Garlean sympathies. Why Lord Zenos sought your accompaniment, I have no idea.” Aulus said lowly, in a voice clearly too loud to be a whisper.

This was something you could have argued with, but honestly, you were freezing, and annoyed. You leaned further against the railing to give him extra space to pass.

Aulus wordlessly walked past you and that would have been the end of it, had you not picked up on movement from one of the corridors within the ship.

The Soul of the Paladin surged within you; it was on instinct that you cast the Cover protection on him.

Just in time, too.

Otherwise, it would have been Aulus who’d been pushed over the edge of the airship and fallen in complete darkness into the water below.

_You idiot._

Thanks, Fray.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I adopted a cat from the shelter today! My lifelong dream is complete - to read fanfiction and watch my favorite shows with a happy cat purring on my lap. All that's left it to get him to stay on my lap while I'm WRITING fanfiction, which might be a tall order indeed, but luckily, I have a lot to write!
> 
> Other than my original arc that I had planned for the next few chapters, I was able to come up with another, more complex plot for the long-term. There's still some bits and pieces to get from here to there, but we are in business, baby!
> 
> If you've noticed chapters getting longer; this will probably continue into further chapters. I can be very long-winded when I want to be and I'm sure at some point I'll get into the zone and you may be looking at a 5000+ word chapter. It really does depend. I have the next chapter almost finished, but I'll wait until I have the chapter after that fully fleshed out before I post. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed, and that this was worth the wait! Let me know what you think of where this is going. Thanks!


	4. Jump

Surprisingly, despite all of Fray’s interesting commentary and encouraging remarks, you were _still_ in the water.

 _You’re a sarcastic bastard, you know that?_ The joke was on Fray. The two of you were a single person, after all. _For all the good it does you. What are we going to do **now**?_

That was the part you were still working on. _Brilliant._

Well, it’s not like you lacked for ideas. There were several ways you could think of to get back up into the airship, which was moving away rather quickly.

You could teleport. Unfortunately, you would need an Aetheryte for that, and there was no such thing on the airship.

You could use a short-range teleport. You knew two ways of doing it; one from the Black Mage school of magic, the other from the Ninja discipline. The problem there was that the thaumaturge’s Aetherial Manipulation required a person to teleport to, and the ninja Shukuchi wasn’t meant for climbing and moving upwards.

You could jump. If there was one thing you’d learned from Estinien, it was how to jump. _A shining endorsement._

The last option was to teleport to an Aetheryte you were attuned to. You shuddered at the thought – well, that might have actually been from the water – but still, the thought of it.

Of Zenos waking up to find you’d duped him into even a partial retreat from Eorzea, after accepting his hand, his offered friendship. Of Zenos wondering where you had gone, perhaps even searching for you.

It wasn’t a scary thought. You’d passed the point of fearing battle long ago. It meant nothing to you anymore, when people told you of the risks before you went out to save the world.

But just the idea of what Zenos would think, knowing that you had disappeared after accepting him, abandoning the promise of his outstretched hand, it made you…

If you left now, would Zenos hate you? You frowned. _I don’t think Zenos can hate us. I don’t think he can hate at all.  
_

But you didn’t want to go back to Eorzea. You’d made a deal with Zenos to come with him, and you would fulfill it.

You had to jump, then.

The problem with that idea was that you couldn’t just jump while you were wading around in water. And you were running out of time. You supposed they might notice you’d disappeared and go back for you, but would you really want to go to Garlemald after being fished out of the water like that?

Not to mention, Aulus would probably not be in any particular hurry to rescue you. _Speaking of Rescue, it’s not too late to pull him in with you. Probably._

It was definitely too late to pull him in with you, but you congratulated Fray on his outside the box thinking nonetheless.

 _But, to jump from the water; could you perhaps summon a mount? In fact, why couldn’t you simply summon a mount to fly out of here and into the airship?_ Obviously, you never had the opportunity to attune to the aether currents in this area, so you wouldn’t be able to fly, not on the back of Midgardsormr himself.

The dragon’s name sent even more shivers down your spine. What exactly would Midgardsormr think of you going to Garlemald?

_Let’s just… not… summon him._

Sage advice, Fray.

 _But, speaking of summons… Could we have Garuda-egi fly us up?_ Garuda-egi could fly? _Obviously. She floats in the air. She’s Garuda; we’ve **seen** her fly! _ All of your summons could float, actually. And Garuda-egi probably couldn’t carry a person.

 _Demi-Bahamut then?_ How were you supposed to enter the Dreadwyrm trance without any opponents? _I don’t know! I’m a dark knight, not a summoner._

You needed an idea, fast. The airship was flying away even as you thought about how to get to it.

 _I’m thinking! If we want to jump we need a platform. Could we use magic somehow? Is there a way to summon solid surfaces with magic?_ There were the Stone spells. _No, it would need to float in water._ …Aero?

 _Aero? Really?_ What? Air floats on water! You were both coming up with ideas here! _Come up with something better. We need to be able to stand on it._

Something you could create with only the combat spells you knew, something solid that floated in water.

Well, actually… come to think of it, you did have a spell. One that did just that.

Calling on the Soul of the Black Mage, you brought out a staff and start concentrating. The water is freezing. You’re soaked through, as well. Still, you had your ways of casting spells swiftly without interruption.

Soon enough you had a block of ice in front of you, and a large one at that. It’s lucky that you made that much, since you will need a platform to bear your weight and push against to get a good jump.

Climbing up the slab, you immediately felt the air against your cold, wet body. It was the worst on your bare skin, but underneath your armor you suspected you may well past the point of feeling the cold. Hopefully you wouldn’t get sick from this.

It was annoying, _so_ annoying when you tried to swing your leg over the ice block; the water on the surface made you slide off quite a few times. It was only when you dug the metal of your boot into the block that you got any kind of hold.

It tilted to the side a with your added weight, almost sinking, but it was good enough. All you needed was a platform, however wobbly.

_Don’t mess it up. The water is cold, but not nearly cold enough for ice like this to last. If you fail, you’ll have to create another, but by then the airship will be too far away. And then you’ll be stuck in here._

Fray really knew how to motivate you. The voice drowned away as you brought forth the Dragoon soul crystal.

You tensed your legs, bending your knees and readying all your strength. Frozen and numb, you tried to still your body’s shaking as best you could before the jump. It occurred to you that you could, in fact, cast a fire spell to warm up now that you weren’t in the airship. And if you did so, it would melt the platform you needed and use up some of your time, which was already running out.

Instead of dwelling on it, you jump.

 

 

 

The Crown Prince of Garlemald retired to his room, removing major pieces of armor as he pondered the day’s admittedly extraordinary events. After setting his chest piece into the armoire with care befitting of its craftsmanship, he began to pace the plush and finely decorated carpet.

Zenos was… excited, certainly. He didn’t have many other names he could put to this emotion, this… _sensation._

He was aware of how arousal worked, of course, but was never one to act on such base urges. Any stress, any frustration – it was just fuel for him to train harder, hone his skills even more.

It meant nothing to him, to take pleasure in a woman seduced by the mere fact of his birthright or appearance. It meant even less still when he was the Crown Prince. It would be expected and excused if he had some kind of liaison, and he would not be punished for anything short of outright murder. And even that “punishment” would be but a trivial annoyance from his father.

No. The only thing that meant anything to him was battle. There, he could wage violence to his heart’s content; he could take freely from his enemies everything they had, with but a simple motion of the arm.

And he could lose. He’d become so strong only because of it – because unlike so many others, Zenos knew what it meant to be willing to kill. Life and death walked hand in hand on the battlefield; only the strong survived. Not even an Emperor, nor his son could escape that reality.

The only thing that would ever keep him safe were his true merits. Strength, skill, cunning – the merits of a warrior.

All too gladly Zenos would wager his one and only life on his ability a hunter. Long ago the danger of battle had faded to him, and all his enemies had become prey, animals to be slaughtered with little resistance. It was only upon meeting you that he’d felt again.

The elation, the joy of seeing all his carefully honed prowess coming to life; the race to outwit, outmaneuver, and eventually outplay his prey. The risk – that he was hunting a beast that would snarl and snap back upon him, a beast that could draw his blood as surely as he could draw yours.

And finally he had realized – prey, predator, hunter, the words were all one and the same, between him and you. You and him were the same. Peerless warriors, empty and searching for something to bring you to life.

For Zenos, he’d found that life already; for the love of the hunt, putting his life on the line, being challenged to the absolute limit.

It was a game he lived for.

And now…

Now…

He could not play it. Not with the only partner worth playing with.

You were in no fit state for battle. Oh, you were not injured or sick _,_ you could fight him, yes. Considering how your last bout had gone, you might even win. But you wouldn’t feel the thrill of the hunt, wouldn’t be able to lose yourself, devote your all to this battle which Zenos had been anticipating since the day you’d broken his blade, and his boredom.

The idea of him laughing, feeling thrilled and ecstatic, _finally_ being able to pour his entire being into this one, glorious, climactic confrontation…

Only for you to stare back at him with those dead, tired eyes.

Only for you to watch in your typical stoic silence as Zenos experienced true desperation, as he was forced to face death in battle for once in his life.

And if you were to kill him, his last sight in this world would be your empty face, devoid of joy or satisfaction. As though it meant nothing to you that he was dead and you’d _survived._ The person you were now could win a victory but couldn’t enjoy it.

If he dared do battle with you now, Zenos could die knowing the only person in the world who was like him couldn’t feel anything anymore.

The problem, Zenos mused to himself, was that he didn’t know what to do about it.

Yes, he had taken you away from Eorzea. That had been a start, separating you from the leeches who survived not by their own merit, but by borrowing yours. The people had demanded more and more from you to save them, further their causes. And you had gained

As far as Zenos knew, you didn’t even hold any power there besides your influence as a hero for the masses. A reward far too paltry for what was needed to earn it.

Hadn’t you been slaying eikons, an entire Legion, Van Baelsar himself? And in return, they sent you to Ala Mhigo, where Zenos could have easily killed you, ending their one and only hope forever. They sent you to Doma, to risk your life to liberate the broken people of a decrepit nation, who had long since lost the will to fight for themselves.  

Then they had you come with that Au Ra woman to attack _him_ , even after your defeat against him the first time you met. Pathetic creatures, leeches, all of them, draining you dry and demanding that you offer them more still of your life and soul. He could never understand why it was you’d fought for them.

Zenos wanted to believe that your battles against him you’d fought of your own free will – just as you’d come with him today, against the wishes of your so-called allies.

But what _was_ your will, exactly?

What drove you to seek him out, and take his proffered hand, and why were you not determined to fight him?

If you could summon no passion on the battlefield, from where _could_ Zenos draw your passion?

It was a waste of time to ask himself these questions. After all, you were the only one who could answer them.

Zenos brought a sword from the large, mechanical sheath, which he kept a few feet from his bed. Staring into the flat of the blade, he wondered… If you hadn’t accepted his offer – would this blade be stained with your blood? Or, perhaps, with his own.

But there were other issues close at hand. You would not see true battle for some time yet, not until Zenos had found a way to motivate you. There would come at least one opportunity for you to hunt with him side by side. Aulus and his division would see to that.

He would have to find some other way to match your insane leaps in power. No longer was that _Shinryu_ a worthy weapon for Zenos to wield against you; for the time being he would need to seek other means. His mind went immediately to the thought of sparring with you. It would be a true joy to dance with you once more, but that alone could not empower him _above_ you.

But perhaps what steps you took could better attune him to your instincts, reveal to him a way of striking at you beyond what your savage grace could evade.

Or better yet… Zenos smiled at his reflection in the mirror-clear blade.

Better yet, he could learn from you. From your _Echo._ Much of the research had been lost, true, but the Resonance had still gone through with him. Zenos himself possessed the power to transcend his limits, to counteract the tempering influence of the primals.

Eikons be damned, Zenos felt a thrill through his chest, he could try his influence against **yours!** Break down the barriers between him and you, lay waste to whatever remained that separated hunter from prey. And in so doing, he could discover just what it was that you had fought for.

And how to make you fight again, with true zeal behind your unyielding prowess.

It would seem he had found his answer, what he could do to stoke the flames of your fighting spirit. Test the power of the Resonance on you and see for himself what it had been like for you. See if he had truly replicated the power that had turned you into the Warrior of Light.

Zenos would have been content to contemplate his plans even more, had he not been interrupted by a knock on his door.

He didn’t bother thinking that he would kill the interloper unless this matter was actually of enough import to bother him. There was no one in the Twelfth that feared him so little.

In a heartbeat, Zenos threw the door open, still holding his weapon. Before him stood a Pilus, who quickly saluted.

“Lord Zenos,” He could hear the fear in the man’s voice, “Aulus mal Asina has been attacked!”

Sighing, Zenos grabbed a light overcoat, throwing it about his shoulders lazily. Nights at sea could become quite cold, after all, and he had been dressed quite lightly.

He didn’t bother with the sheath, instead carrying the blade out in one hand. “Where?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who knows how to do POV swaps? Not me! I just put a bunch of lines between the paragraphs and hope it works :D
> 
> Welp, brace yourselves, guys! Plot is coming! I mean, I think it is. I'm honestly not sure if this chapter (and potentially the next one) count as filler, but there's definitely some seeds being planted here that will sprout later on. By then maybe I will end up posting these 5k+ word chapters. 
> 
> I know this chapter is pretty intensive with the soul crystals and the class swapping, and honestly my plans are for this to show up later on. Let me know what you think - I know there are people who don't know much about a lot of the classes, as well as people who outright only play a few classes or roles and have never touched other ones, so I may have to be more general or give better backgrounds to make sure everyone knows what I'm talking about. Hopefully I'm doing well, though!


	5. Aspirant traitor

You were sopping wet. Freezing. Angry at Fray – which meant you were angry at yourself – angry at Garleans and their apparent love of the cold, angry at Aulus and his inability to avoid being pushed off airships. Thinking back on it, you had an ability that would stop you from getting knocked around like that, didn’t you? That was even _more_ frustrating.

It would have been hard to make a list, put everything possible in exact order –

But the _last thing_

The _very last thing_

That you would have _ever_ wanted to come out of this situation

Was you, sitting in Zenos’s quarters beside him, and Aulus. The scientist had declared you needed immediate treatment upon seeing you, and Zenos had generously volunteered his personal rooms for the examination. A taunt if ever you’d seen one. Zenos could not possibly think you needed actual treatment, or that you couldn’t just heal yourself.

Then again, perhaps he just wanted to question you. _That makes a good deal more sense, actually._

“Get that off,” Aulus had demanded brusquely, gesturing towards you.

Bristling, you stare at him with suspicion. “Get what off?”

“Your armor. And whatever you’re wearing underneath it. Since you are wet, it will only worsen your condition.”

Throwing a sideways glance at Zenos, you could tell see a subtle quirk to his lips, a glint of fire in his eyes that made you shiver. Luckily you were already shuddering. Soaked to the bone as you were in the freezing airship, you couldn’t control your body’s shaking.

“I said I was fine. Really, I don’t need any treatment.”

“As you say,” Zenos drawled, tilting his head lazily to the side, “You may depart once you tell me what transpired.”

You nodded, “If you wish.”

“Aulus says he was attacked. Is it true that you cast some sort of spell on him, and fell over the railing?”

“Yes. It is a power of the Sultansworn. Paladins. I could tell that Aulus was going to be attacked, so I used the ability to take the hit in his place.” You sighed. “I didn’t think it would send me flying.”

“Take it in his place? What a waste of your skills.” Zenos heaved a great sigh of his own. Still, your instincts were to be praised – a true warrior you were indeed, if you could sense an attack even if it was not directed at you.

Smiling wryly – here was the Zenos you knew – you responded, “Perhaps.”

It wasn’t as though it had saved…

Mercifully, though such a thing did not suit the man, Zenos broke your internal chain of thoughts, “You saw nothing. So, our aspirant traitor has escaped identification – for now. How interesting.”

 _Traitor?_ You don’t dare ask anything out loud. Then again, it made sense that he suspected a turncoat in the ranks. No one else could have gotten onto the ship unnoticed.

Again, you nodded, and it was only when Zenos’s eyes narrowed that you voiced your response.

“No, I didn’t see who did it.” You said, feeling strangely cowed. Even conversations were a battlefield with Zenos, and you hadn’t come prepared.

“Then we will to flush out this little insurgency before we arrive in Imperial territory,” Zenos mused aloud, “I trust I will have your cooperation in this?”

You knew he wanted a verbal response. You also knew that this insurgent was very likely allied with the Resistance. You knew little of Garlean politics, but surely no one from Garlemald would know much about the Crown Prince’s pet scientist, or have reason to kill him. Aulus had just been researching the Echo, hadn’t he?

“Yes,” You said. _If we are lucky Aulus has enemies in Garlemald who are after him. If we aren’t…_

“Good,” Zenos said, the corner of his lips flickering as his eyes trailed down your form, “You may let me know personally if you anticipate a lead fit for pursuit. Aulus, I trust you will see to your own safety.”

 _Anticipate? How specific._ If Zenos was suggesting you use the Echo to aid his investigation… _Well, then he’s as smart as they give him credit for. Tactician indeed._

“Now may I proceed with the examination?” Aulus said, his voice dripping with annoyance. You looked up to see him facing Zenos; Aulus had been asking him. Really, the man thought he was going to be probing around your body without your express personal permission? He’d spent too much time around Zenos.

Broad shoulders rolled in a lazy shrug, “Do you suspect a mere swim would seriously injure the Warrior of Light?”

His eyes flickered from you to Zenos impatiently. Aulus turned to you finally and said, “You’re wet, you fell into the ocean at night, and you’ve been shivering ever since you got out. Let me examine you already.”

“A little cold never hurt anyone.”

“You have Hypothermia.”

Hypothermia? You could Esuna that away, right? _Probably not._

“I have Esuna,” You said anyways, because Aulus didn’t know what Esuna could and couldn’t do.

“Wha-” For a moment you savor the look of utter confusion on the scientist’s face, “It makes no difference. You need warm bath, and a heated room. And to get out of those clothes!”

“In that order?” You mused aloud, “Could be difficult.”

Zenos chuckled beside you, a low and dangerous noise that sent an altogether new kind of shudder coursing through you.

You couldn’t help but stare for a moment at the source of the sound; Zenos had a good deal of his bare chest exposed. It would appear he wasn’t as bothered by the cold as you were. Discreetly, you ran your eyes down his form; he was about as tall as you had expected, but surprisingly lean. The armor had added quite a lot of bulk, you supposed.

You nearly jumped when he reached a hand out to you. It was undeniable that Zenos noticed the gesture, but his expression didn’t change from that lazy amusement.

When his bare palm met your forehead, you realized he’d been trying to tell how cold you were. The heat of it nearly burned against your skin, but even a blazing fire was a comfort on a freezing night. He was testing Aulus’s judgement for himself, it seemed. As quickly as he’d set his hand on your forehead, Zenos retracted it, letting his fingers curl as he dropped his arm at his side.

Resisting the urge to lick your lips, you met his gaze.

“Take your rest, Eikon Slayer,” Zenos said, staring at you through half-lidded, intense blue eyes. “I shall rouse you later in the morning to compensate for this… escapade.”

 _Rouse. Why does everyone keep using that word, rouse? It doesn’t help that he’s so… Touchy._ If even Fray was nervous – _We are not nervous! Earlier this day we were ready to kill each other, and now he’s touching us with the familiarity of an old friend, or something._

He might actually consider you an ‘old friend’ or something like it. Zenos struck you as a very physical person, and his idea of being your enemy had involved letting you live, twice, when he could have killed you. _How about we save this internal debate for later, when we’re not in the room with him?_

Suddenly you were acutely aware of just how vulnerable you felt – freezing, shaking, and tired. You wanted nothing more than to collapse on a warm bed and fall asleep. Somehow, even that exhaustion felt like another vulnerability.

Inclining your head to Zenos, you stood to make for the door. Aulus huffed behind you.

Just before you left, you remembered a thought you’d had.

“Zenos?” You paused to ask, just before leaving. It was strange that it came to you now – you _really_ should not have said anything. But you already had, so…

His reply was quick, and a little closer than he had been before. “Yes? Go on.”

You turned your head back to him. He’d taken a step towards you as you’d walked away. It felt foolish to say, but it would be even more absurd to not say anything at all.

“About Doma. I hear you crushed the rebellion unarmed, made a show of it. Personally taking on every comer, making the others watch.” You want to take a breath here but stop yourself, shoving the words out, “Did you hate them?”

His eyes caught the light for a moment, glittering at you like crystal. “Hm. For not meeting my expectations, for failing when they had declared so desperately that they could not? All of Doma was a disappointment, a land hardly worth the effort to rule it. But no hunter could ever hate his trophies. The only feeling that land and its people gave me was boredom.”

 _As we suspected. He couldn’t hate them. He didn’t care enough._ What that meant for you… you’d rather not think of it. Why would it mean anything for you, anyways?

“I see.”

And with that you left.

 

 

 

Somehow, a smile had found its way on Zenos’s face.

“Aulus, after you ensure my guest has reached the assigned quarters, you may return to your work. An escort awaits you outside. Have those rooms heated as well.”

After bowing, Aulus left. It was very strange of the man to go without a single word; you hadn’t rubbed off on him, had you?

Zenos thought back and almost laughed aloud. Ah, you _had_ called him by name, hadn’t you? It meant nothing to him if you used his title or not, but of course that would appear strange to his subordinates. That Aulus had accepted it with such little question was rather strange, but then again perhaps Aulus was just displeased that you had escaped his examination.

The thought of telling you to refer to him as ‘Lord Zenos’ was distasteful, unwelcome. Just the act of saying such a thing to you, or hearing you use his title, would be a complete farce.

As though he was in any way above you. As though you had not proven yourself. As though you had not fallen before him like so many others, and fought him a second time in Doma when no one else in your place would have dared. As though you had not risen stronger for it. Risen to his level.

Others would question your use of his name, but no one would question him. What anyone made of it was none of his concern.

Besides, he liked the sound of you saying his name. The first two times you and him met you’d not spoken a single word. You had always struck him as the stoic type, your emotions clear to him only through your savagery on the battlefield. So often did you elect to let your actions speak for you, so grand in scale they were. Your voice was a fine delicacy, an experience to be savored, never taken for granted.

And so everything you’d said remained in his mind, every word you spoke to him sounding again in his memory.

Which left Zenos with his thoughts.

_“Perhaps.” “If you wish.” “Yes.” “I see.”_

You’d been shorter with him now than you had been earlier in the day. Explaining in detail only the means by which you’d fallen into water, that bizarre protective spell that you had attributed to the ‘Paladins’.

He was certainly glad that he had not lost his scientist – and with him, the research on his budding new power. The fruits of his investigation had been spoiled by the assault on Ala Mhigo; Fordola had been captured, and that mewling little creature had been retrieved by her Resistance allies, as well. The only remaining subject with relevant abilities was Zenos himself.

He blinked.

And you.

He could hardly expect you to agree to be a part of the project, and neither would he want you to. To have his newfound might handed to him by the very soul who had challenged him to become stronger? A hollow victory that would be, if such a borrowed power could even lead to it.

You were one who lent out your strength – one that matched even his own – freely to those below you. But you had left all of that behind. Zenos would not consider subjecting you to it again. Far be it from him to join the throes of pitiful creatures who’d sought your strength to turn the gears of their machinations, offering nothing in return.

Another way you and him were alike, then. No one had ever offered you help. And it was no one’s place to help the Crown Prince of Garlemald, who’d been born and raised to kill. He scrunched his brows in consternation. Had he ever even wanted such a thing?

Zenos could not recall a single incident. For the life of him, he could not tell why you had given so much of your time and effort to the peoples who did nothing for you.

It occurred to him, the obvious cause – you had fought him in Doma, and Ala Mhigo, after all. And you had fought Eikons in both places as well, Zenos thought, smiling to himself. It was as though the creatures followed you wherever you went. As did wars. Perhaps all this time, deep in your heart of hearts, you had only been seeking greater challenges still. Perhaps that was the secret of your great strides in power.

_“Did you hate them?”_

It came back to him suddenly. It was the one thing you said not directly related to anything else that had been a topic of conversation. And it had been so unexpected, right before you left.

What strange questions you asked him. Would his own questions for you seem obscure when he asked? Doma meant nothing to him, had meant nothing to him for a long time. What had the nation and its people been reborn into, rising from the ashes and blood of their own destruction, and that of their enemies?

It would not necessarily be against his agreement with you to go survey his former hunting grounds, but he had no interest in Doma. For all the miraculous resurgence the broken nation had exhibited, it had been your will that moved them, even as lifeless and tired as you had been.

Perhaps you still cared for the mice you’d taken under your wing. He’d expect you would know how little he made of the people there, how pathetic they were in his eyes. How you could mistake his distain for hatred was a mystery indeed. Zenos had seen hatred, in the people of Doma and Ala Mhigo both. For all their writhing passion and burning will to fight, it changed nothing; they were still weak.

That you would ask now was interesting nonetheless.

A regiment from Doma had been approaching the Twelfth for a rendezvous since your fateful victory against the forces there. They might arrive during the night – not that Zenos would be disturbed to oversee it – but he would need to ensure his Doman forces understood your position.

It would be amusing to see you crush them like the insects they were to you, to see the fear in their eyes as they realized you were his equal in every way. But Zenos doubted you had the will to slay them over an insult the way he would. Their respect for you would have to come from their fear of him.

It was of no import; the Twelfth had fear of him to spare.

 

 

 

The steam in the room was so pleasant, you were reluctant to leave the tub. The water would cool, eventually, but _oh,_ did it feel wonderful in the moment.

But like most other things in your life, this happiness, too, had to end eventually.

 _And you say that I’m negative._ Well, you were the same person, after all. _Still._

You deserved a little rest, a little relaxation in a nice, warm bath. After it had been freezing for you the entire night, after you’d been dragged to Zenos’s own rooms and had to deal with Aulus being… Aulus, and Zenos being… Zenos.

On that train of thought – just what was _wrong_ with Zenos?

Perhaps he had always been this way, and it had only recently come to light. Perhaps not. It was not as though you had known Zenos outside the battlefield before today. Either way, it remained; this man who’d thought it good sport to try to kill you thought nothing of taking liberties with your person.

 _We didn’t exactly do anything about it._ That was a part of the problem, certainly. Just.

Every time Zenos reached out to you, something inside you started waiting. Tensing. Expecting him to turn on you, dig those claws into your skin and rend your flesh, smiling that same vicious smile all the while.

 _That would be whatever remained of our sanity, then,_ Fray remarked dryly.

You conceded that Fray had a point. But that wasn’t exactly a solution.

 _Stab him?_ Fray proposed. It was an idea worth considering. Obviously if Zenos did anything truly odd you would defend yourself without even thinking. But otherwise, these friendly personal touches…

 _Stab him. That will get the message across._ Would it? What if Zenos _did_ get the message, and every time he wanted to fight he leaned in and caressed your face? _That would be ridi – no. No, you’re right. He would do that._

A difficult situation indeed. You’d battled Zenos too much, faced a sudden and visceral prospect of death by his hands, and you could not forget it, at least not yet. Having him so close to you, in touching distance, it set your battle instincts in a frenzy, your senses into overdrive. And you didn’t know what to do with yourself, what to do about it.

The problem wasn’t that you felt these things, it was that it _showed_. And Zenos had been watching like a hawk, missed nothing of your expressions or subtle cues. _I wonder why._

You didn’t wonder. It was pointless. You were already here, so you needed to work with what you had, deal with Zenos in the ways you were able.

 _Then ignore it. Grit and endure it. Show no weakness._ Fray’s answer wasn’t one you liked, but there wasn’t much else for it.

Rare indeed was the time when you liked the solution to your problems, you mused to yourself as you stood up in the tub.

Your skin prickled up in gooseflesh immediately, and it was not the memory of your erstwhile enemy that disturbed you. Rather, a strange feeling, a disturbance in the aether around you. Like a beacon being lit from a fair distance away.

A cursory glance around the room revealed that it was empty, and when you got out of the water the air was not nearly as cold as you had expected. Had Aulus actually done something to make the room warm? You’d have to thank him.

 _Would that be weakness?_ Fray mused. You supposed Aulus had been obligated to do it, for all he’d gone on about ‘treating’ you. And you’d saved his life. It wasn’t as though the man would come after you about it.

Drying yourself off and donning some clothes you’d had in your inventory – how terribly fortunate you were to have such a marvelous means of carrying things – you figured it was finally time to go to bed.

It appeared more blankets had been delivered to your room, soft and thick. They would have been better suited to the room’s earlier temperature, but it still didn’t hurt to have them now.

 _Looks like the scientist knows something after all_. Then again, Aulus would have had to have these sent before you’d left Zenos’s rooms. He must have had them sent while you were on your way there.

You frowned. Speaking of Aulus, what was wrong with _him?_ How could he have possibly expected you to undress in the room, with Zenos present? Perhaps it had been normal for Aulus to have Zenos in the room while he saw patients, and perhaps some of them had been in a state of undress.

But still. He couldn’t expect _you_ to disrobe at his command. Surely Aulus had more sense than that. _He nearly died today, if you don’t recall. Not to mention, he tried to face us in battle, and he’s been studying the Echo._

That much made you chuckle as you sit in bed. Perhaps Aulus did have more curiosity than sense, then. He wouldn’t be the first Garlean you’d met who did, not by a long shot.

There was a slight chill in the air, all the sudden. You looked up to the vent and thought you saw a flicker of light in there – but it is gone as soon as you imagine it. It couldn’t have been from you, you hadn’t used any magic. No one on the ship could, at least not the Garleans. They did have their own devices, though, and perhaps that was one of them. A spark to heat the air being filtered though, perhaps.

You settle in bed, shaking your head weakly to dispel your suspicions.

There were no windows in the room. No one could be watching you.

And with that thought, you feel asleep. Safe and sound on the giant airship that belonged to the Twelfth Imperial Legion of Garlemald.

 

 

Above the rooms and hallways and staircases and ladders, atop the airship where few had ever laid their feet –

He gazes down, eyes fixed on the surface of the ship. The metal must be fascinating, for he has not looked away for several moments. Not once he’d found you, anyways.

It could have been much easier to catch sight of you earlier. If only he had a third eye.

You weren’t supposed to be here.

He had to be in this place, had to come this way. After all, he had duties to fulfill. But you…

By the side of the Crown Prince, were you? What exactly was your relationship with him, why were you spending time in his rooms, why did the he _let you –_

His lips curl into a snarl.

He will have his answers. Soon.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A while ago I realized Zenos normally uses much more flowery language than what I’ve written so far. It's a problem to write, because a lot of writers have to train themselves not to use super poetic prose. 
> 
> But Zenos is just. Like that. Super chatty bastard, loves metaphors and long flowing sentences and monologuing. Write a book, Zenos.
> 
> Also I’ve been running out of metaphors for “hunting” and it makes me unbelievably uncomfortable to repeat certain phrases so much. The last thing I want is some caricature of Zenos that just rants about hunting all the time. Uwaa, the struggles of a writer! To return to the less-flowery, no-nonsense Zenos I'd been writing a while ago. It starts to affect the rest of the prose, too, because I have Zenos in charge of the narration, but then I switch back to the WoL and I'm still. Making. Metaphors.
> 
> Please Square let this hunter thing die. Just have Zenos say 'let's dance' or some other generic thing for which there are more synonyms. Please, I'm begging you.
> 
> *images of DDR Zenos* ...At least he'd be useful in Bardam's Mettle?
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! WoL and Zenos meet again, yaaaaay. Never the twain shall... uh, part. Don't worry, the WoL is stuck hanging out with Zenos for the foreseeable future. Ish. I mean, Asahi and the rest of his people have to show up sometime! But fear not. The story is about Zenos and WoL, there's just got to be some background stuff, there's gotta be a plot to move them around, otherwise I'll be stuck writing internal monologues for like 20 chapters until they kill each other XD
> 
> I checked relatively carefully and no, there are no incomplete sentences in this chapter. The first few lines of narration are a stylistic choice. There are also some sentence fragment sentences, which is another cool stylistic choice I picked up from some other fanfiction authors. I'm a real fan of it, let me know what you guys think!


	6. Just a spar

Zenos woke you later than he would normally have. He’d been awake for several hours beforehand. A Legatus was generally compelled to rise early to issue commands and hear reports, especially with issues like what had happened to Aulus last night. Zenos himself did not need as much sleep as a normal person, as well.

For hours had he gone through dull issuances of ‘I was not there last night’ and ‘I saw nothing’. The traitor had hidden their tracks well. More to his frustration – you were here. _You_ were on this very airship, living and breathing and having agreed to be his companion.

Here you were, within reach, in a hesitant but established alliance with him. The Warrior of Light who had made his blood sing in anticipation, his heart soar on the wings of battle. The one warrior of merit Zenos had ever met in his life was _in this ship_ and he wasn’t. Doing anything with you.

The Crown Prince was _itching_ for a fight. Desperate for it. It was not meet of him to be so impatient, especially when he knew you had been nearly ill the night before. But your room had been heated, and you should have had a good night’s rest.

So without further delay, he went to wake you.

 

“Just a spar, you say?” You confirm, circling the training grounds to match Zenos’s movements.

It had been shocking enough, having Zenos yae Galvus knocking upon your door to wake you. You were lucky your time camping in the Dravanian Hinterlands had trained you to sleep lightly. After a brief confirmation of your awakening, Zenos had departed and left behind a servant with some breakfast and instructions to meet him in the practice range.

Suspicious had been one word for it. _Are we sure he doesn’t mean to kill us,_ had been what Fray had said. You didn’t exactly have a way to refute that, either.

Inwardly… Well, if Zenos turned out to get carried away, or if he meant to fight to the death under the guise of training… _What? So we really don’t care if we die here?_

You’d done all you possibly could for Eorzea and the other nations. Killed all the Primals you’d found, quelled beastmen without number, drove the Garleans from so many shores. If they were lost without you, then they were doomed anyways. It’s not like you were going to live forever. The world would have had to find a new savior sooner or later.

And for all Fray’s worries, it wasn’t like you’d go down without a fight. Not while it was Zenos who stood against you. Old and forgotten was the feeling that stirred within you – you were prepared to fight for your life, if need be. Had it been that long since you’d truly feared death in battle? For all the gods and armies you’d battled, only against Zenos did you truly contemplate the possibility of defeat.

 _“ **What** are you?” _Thordan had asked. You shook your head to rid yourself of the memory. It wasn’t any use in the here and now.

The moment you glanced up to make sure your opponent was ready, you noticed Zenos was frowning at you. _What a great start_.

It was strange, really. So strange. He’d been the one who wanted this, after all. And as far as you knew, Zenos lived for battle.

Calling upon the Soul of the Summoner within you, you figured you’d gain an advantage by not fighting alone. Fray scoffed at the notion – _liar, liar, we are **always** alone _– but his voice faded as you held fast to the other soul crystal.

Just in time, the idea occurred to you that the Garleans on this ship would not take very kindly to you summoning what looked like Eikons before their very eyes. Quickly, you adjusted your summoning spell to have Titan-egi appear as a Carbuncle.

Zenos’s eye twitched as he glanced over the innocuous, cute creature that held the ether of a god. You repressed a smile and the urge to enkindle your summon’s power right away – that would be most useful later.

What were you going to do with Demi-Bahamut was anyone’s guess… Maybe the Summoner school hadn’t been the best choice to start with.

Still, you set your Bio and Miasma upon Zenos with just as much diligence as you would in any other fight. It would wear him down throughout the battle, whereas you were able to heal any harm he could do to you.

Zenos advanced with lightning speed, as you’d expected; you’d already moved your summon to intercept him.

The summon was hit hard, though. For all its incredible endurance, Zenos was on another level. Titan-egi would not last another couple blows, if Zenos didn’t outright choose to ignore it.

You backed away quickly, making distance between you and him as quickly as possible, and sustaining the summon as best you could. You were a long way away from Zenos when you finally turned around.

As quickly as you could, you commanded Titan-egi to use its power, before it was destroyed. In the same moment, you cast Heavy on Zenos – hopefully you could buy yourself some time with that.

Immediately, you called upon the Soul of the Black Mage. Throwing the strongest fire spell you were able to at Zenos, you couldn’t help but smile at the Astral Fires that flickered into being, circling around you gently. You put down your ley lines and set to work, slinging spell after spell towards your opponent before he was able to close the distance between you and him.

Your strategy was remarkably effective. The heat of your fire swelled within the room, bright suns bursting into being around your opponent.

None of it deterred him.

Zenos strode towards you despite your spell impeding his movement, despite the flames swirling around him, lighting his eyes with a savage gleam. Still, your fire would not be denied; beads of sweat were forming on his brow as his breaths grew deeper, more labored, the only evidence of the inferno he’d walked through.

Zenos was fast, though – how could he not be – and after a few spells you quickly changed disciplines again, this time using the Red Mage soul crystal.

You dashed in well before he reached you, hoping to catch him off guard. It worked for the moment, and Zenos seemed pleased to finally by in striking range of you. As you stepped back, careful, he began to circle you with razor focus, eyes fixed on you, unblinking.

You matched each of his movements as soon as he made them, circling back with an equally deadly focus. You felt some measure of what Zenos had always talked about – you felt like a predator circling your mark, waiting carefully for the right opening. It was exactly was Zenos was doing, himself.

The instant you could tell he was about to move, you dropped your Fleche spell on him and jump backwards, bringing out a bow and swapping to Bard. It was mostly just for the Mana Song, but you were able to get some good shots off, too.

And Zenos, it seemed, had figured out your game of jumping away at the last moment. You could tell he was about to dig his sword into the ground and try to stun you from a distance, as he had many times before.

That instant, you had to think fast– you could use the Paladin ability to counteract the shockwave, but it would make your current plan less tenable. You needed to regain all the mana you could before you changed back to Black Mage.

Quickly you decided to take whatever Zenos gave out. It couldn’t be much worse than anything else you’d endured. You lined up more shots, trying to get the most out of your skills before you swap –

Then it hit you. _Concentrativity._

An involuntary freeze rips through your body as the stun hits you. You nearly dropped your weapon when your hands rose to your head; your head was ringing with the aftershock.

Shaking your head once, then twice, you jerked your body back into position. Zenos was right before you, blade rising already to deliver a mighty blow.

Making another quick decision, you follow your original plan. As fast as possible, you called out the Soul of the Black Mage once more and teleported to the ley lines you’d set down at the beginning of the fight, at the far side of the room.

You winced as soon as you got there – you avoided the brunt of the blow, but between the time of the swap and the teleport Zenos had brought his blade down on your shoulder.

There was a gash there, but nothing that would hinder you greatly. It would be a waste of time to heal yourself now.

With a feral grin, you readied your most powerful spells, prepared to throw even more at him, even as the pain bloomed on your shoulder.

Zenos was sprinting towards you, would be on you in a heartbeat. He had worked out your strategy, then.

For all his might, Zenos was a short range fighter. He was fast, very fast, but if you had any way, any way at all to put distance between you and him, all his terrible strength was useless.

Not to mention there were ways for you to inflict terrible harm on him from afar. Between your many soul crystals, you had a plethora of abilities to move around the battlefield, the least of which was simple sprinting.

The mark on your shoulder was proof, however, of the price that play had cost you.

For his part, Zenos had taken your onslaught remarkably well, but his waistcoat was singed, and he was not moving as quickly as he would have at the start of the fight. All the flames had taken something out of him, after all. He was clearly eager to attack after being held at range for so long, but you didn’t see any signs of anger or annoyance on his face.

Instead, Zenos seemed pleased, past his inexplicable frown at the start of the fight. You’d felt those blue, blue eyes on you ever since you’d walking into the practice arena. Following your every movement, examining and cataloging your every decision. Reading you, studying you, trying to know you in the one way he knew how.

Maybe his strange, eager examination of your fighting form had been part of what made your strategy work so well. After all, Zenos could observe quite well from a distance. Something told you – perhaps his quickened advancement at the very moment – that he was ready for a closer engagement.

Enough of the casters, then. Time to give Zenos the close range fight he wanted.

The Soul of the Paladin answered your call eagerly, readily, as it always had. Always there to serve, to protect. Quickly you took your Oath and stood fast, easily withstanding the punishments the Garlean delivered.

You had enough mana left to cast Clemency, thankfully. Lashing out with your shield you struck Zenos with it, giving yourself the precious few seconds to cast the powerful healing spell, and the injury on your shoulder was healed in an instant.

Wondering if Zenos would take offense to your undoing of his work, you began to take your own blade against him. He met your sword with confidence and ease, as you’d expected – Zenos was like no swordsman you’d ever seen before.

Fighting him at range was hard. Fighting him up close… there was a reason he’d defeated you on two occasions.

Blocking an attack with your shield, you swiped at his weapon arm to try and pacify him, which of course wasn’t effective. You couldn’t recall, now that you thought of it, a time when that trick _had_ worked.

You were well prepared to use abilities to get your mana back and just wear Zenos down through attrition. You’d already done more damage to him than he had to you, and you knew very well Zenos didn’t have any healing abilities, while you did. You could just fight him as a Paladin until he got tired of it.

Zenos himself seemed to understand that much – you cast another healing spell on yourself and he struck out on you, but was unable to stop your casting. When that didn’t work, he dug his sword into the floor again.

With tempered will, you resisted the shockwave easily. Perhaps it was time to make Zenos aware of who he was fighting once more – he may be most dangerous up close, but so were you.

The Soul of the Warrior answered easily to your call, a familiar rage burning in your chest. Angry at the world, for making you fight these battles that weren’t your own. Angry at your enemies, for trying to kill you, when you bore them no ill will. Angry at anyone and everyone who would dare to hurt what you’d decided to protect.

There was a reason they called you Warrior of Light. Hero. Invincible. A fury buried long ago, from when he first fought you at Rhalgr’s Reach, rose to the surface. You’d killed _gods!_ Decided the fates of nations! You could win any battle, overcome any odds, face any doom and live to tell the tale! Zenos yae Galvus wanted a fight? You would give him one!

You swung at him, savagely, once, and then again, building up momentum for greater swings. Zenos was fast enough to dodge most things, but the extremely close range he’d come in with had put him at a disadvantage.

Not that he minded, by the looks of that enthusiastic grin. With each clash of axe and blade he seemed to only grow more excited, more thrilled with the juggernaut before him.

His entertainment only spurred you on more. Did he think his own life was not at stake?! In the back of your mind you knew that was not the case; Zenos was excited _because_ his life was at stake here, _because_ it was possible for him to lose this battle.

Then again, it had been just a spar until you’d brought out the Soul of the Warrior. Consumed as you were with your prideful wrath, you weren’t about to let Zenos leave this battlefield without dealing at least one great blow.

And you had just the means of dealing it. Returning his smile with a feral grin of your own, you reached inside of yourself. To the place where once you’d affirmed your will to protect, you now cried out at your Inner Beast to defend your own honor. To let Zenos know that you were always a force to be reckoned with, to –  

A blade whipped through the air from behind you. It cut through nothing but your thoughts – and, fortunately for your spar, the surprise cut through your anger.

You spun at the interloper immediately. The figure responsible stood in the doorway to the training room; a diminutive young Doman clad almost entirely in white.

In a heartbeat, you attuned yourself to a new soul crystal and brought forth a spear, jumping to the Doman without a second thought.

Zenos beat you there, but he didn’t use the opening to attack you. He instead lowered his weapon, casting you an aside glance as he moved beside you to face the one who’d intruded in your shared stage.

A horror unlike any other flitted across the young Doman’s face upon seeing Zenos’s reaction. You put away your spear; clearly this was someone who had mistaken your sparring for. Well. Not sparring.

You couldn’t exactly blame him – Warriors were among the most feared of disciplines. And you carried a particularly large axe. You also might have been about to ruthlessly rip Zenos to shreds in a blood rage, or at least try to. Outside of his absurdly giant plate armor, Zenos had no real means of defense. It was just that there were so few in the world who could inflict actual harm on him.

The young Doman was still frowning, however, and when you followed his gaze, you realized he was staring straight at Zenos. By all accounts, the Crown Prince looked…

“My lord, what is – ”

“The Doman Ambassador. Tribunus, yes? Explain your purpose, infringing in these moments between your betters.” Zenos said, his eyes boring holes into the so-called Ambassador as he closed in on the smaller man.

He still hadn’t sheathed his sword.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the fight scene, because uh. I don't know how I'd write a different kind of fight scene. 
> 
> Zenos inflicted by status effects because it's no fair that status effects don't work on bosses but still work on us. Also Shield Swipe does basically nothing because it like. Never works. Why. Why does it even exist? PotD probably. 
> 
> Anyways, I have a few things I've actually got to take care of this week. A project due Thursday, some friends who want to go out and do stuff tonight, and some other celebrations. Halloween, hurray! From this point onward I have a lot of chapters drafted out, but I need to decide what order I'm going to put things in. The plot is pretty solidified but again, there's some timeline concerns, as well as some 4.4 spoiler things, that will become more important to the writing the further I get into the story.
> 
> The good news is, most of the next few chapters will feature Zenos/WoL interactions very heavily. There will be some new characters who get introduced, and I will add those tags around the time they appear, but other than that, we're getting into the Character Development stuff! Hurray! The ship is getting ready to set sail on a long journey of... Zenos being a Bad Person and WoL Dealing With Hero Problems. Clearly a recipe for romance XD


	7. From just a spar

Zenos watched as you as he prowled the area, pleased to see you respond in kind, moving to stay across from him and afford him no advantage.

It stilled him though, to see the look in your eyes. His hand seemed to itch on his blade, eager to swing, but Zenos did not permit the slightest of unnecessary motions.

A true warrior you were, dancing and weaving with death as you fought, well aware that a single misstep would end your life as surely as it would end another’s. It made sense that you would be prepared to face death at almost every moment, whenever you unsheathed your weapon…

But still.

Warriors such as you and him – you were beyond mortality, beyond the possibility of defeat from anything but him. Fear was an emotion with which Zenos had never been acquainted. Was it simply a matter of habit, having faced deadly enemies only just after growing strong enough to defeat them?

Still…

_“With my life.”_

If you _really_ trusted him, why would you expect him to try to kill you in this battle?

Zenos frowned across from you, and though he could see you pick up on his expression, he could not imagine what you’d make of it.

You summoned some creature to fight by your side. So, you’d be relying on magic for the start of this battle? Interesting.

He felt it when you set your spells of sickness and poison to sap at his strength – a pointless gesture, really, but a tiny discomfort nonetheless. Perhaps you’d planned for them to wear on him throughout the battle; you’d cast the spells with a practiced manner that bordered on routine.

He watched as your eyes flickered from the creature you’d summoned back to him. Your summon followed the direction of your gaze and flew towards him to intercept him on his path towards its master.

For a moment Zenos felt insulted. The creature was some sort of glowing fox, bright and cheerful looking. It had no place on the battlefield, certainly. Deep inside he knew that couldn’t possibly be anywhere near so simple, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to feel impressed.

Quickly and dismissively, he struck out with his weakest blade. As though he would use anything stronger for mere sparring. To his surprise, the creature remained. It attacked him back, which he barely felt, and withstood yet another blow of his.

It was no ordinary creature indeed. Zenos looked back around for you – it would seem you’d put quite a distance between him and yourself. No matter, he could cross it quickly, as soon as he dealt with your summon.

He readied his blade for a great blow, when the creature seemed to gain some extra power. Still, Zenos could tell it had barely survived his attack. One more would finish –

Earthquakes erupted in a circle around him, emerging from your summon. At once, Zenos felt another spell from you – a sudden heaviness to his movements, slowing him down, making it difficult to move.

The creature disappeared immediately and Zenos turned quickly to you.

And then the fire came.

Flames upon flames upon flames bathed Zenos as he walked towards you, slowly but assuredly. A strange pattern of runes appeared beneath you; he knew not their purpose, but your spells came all the fiercer, burning intensely. Savagely.

He could see your smile through the heat that was beginning to swelter, see the fire in your eyes.

Yes, yes! This was the warrior he had wanted to come with him, to be his companion! This was the opponent who could make him bleed, make him earn his pound of flesh as no other had before! Zenos strides forward all the quicker, the exertion and heat that bathed the room flushing his pale skin and causing him to sweat.

Such inconsequential things he ignored without question. He was transfixed upon you, casting spell after spell upon him, your figure dancing in the heat before him like light flickering in a crystal. Concentrated, joyful, and filled with energy. Now you, too, were _alive!_

He had crossed a large measure of the distance to you, but it would seem you’d changed your strategies. Pulling out a weapon Zenos _recognized,_ in fact. An artefact of the Red Mages – how interesting, and yet totally expected. You would never be reduced to anything as base as draining the aether of others to sustain yourself.

You surge at him with all the ferocity he remembered from the practitioners of the Red. But this time you do it justice, drawing blood from a scratch where your onslaught had caught him off guard. Zenos had never been accustomed to mages who closed distance, but then, it had never mattered.

None of them had been able to touch him, make him flinch.

He backed away as soon as you did. Zenos stalked to your left to get to your side, but you immediately moved to keep him before you. Like wolves circling - no. 

Like _stars_ , caught close to one another, each pulled into orbit by the other, you circled, watching, waiting for any sign of instability. Any chance to pull in and consume your opponent with all the mercy of a force of nature.

Zenos was never one for patience and waiting. As soon as he could tell you meant only to react to him, and did not have the initiative to lash out at him – he would have to work on that, on ways to provoke you – he made to strike, to finally clash with you –

And immediately, almost as soon as he decided to move, you conjured swords from the sky, raining down upon him, and jumped away, pulling out a bow as you did.

Enough of this. Zenos would have his fight, he would be evaded no longer. He thrust his sword into the floor, cutting through the metal with ease.

Zenos could tell you noticed this, as well, bracing yourself as you rained arrows down on him from a distance. He was struck by most of them, not too badly, but it made no difference.

He channeled his strength and let loose the mighty shockwave. It would seem you hadn’t braced yourself well enough – your figure was stunned, and helpless before him for a precious few seconds he had no intention of letting go to waste.

In the time between seconds he was before you, poised to finally sink his blade into you.

And he almost did, too. For a fleeting instant, Zenos felt the sword meet your flesh, and then the resistance of your body beneath his blade disappeared. You’d disappeared – completely.

There was no way you’d left the room. He could  _feel_ your presence, still, as acutely as he felt the handle of the blade in his hand, as natural to him as drawing breath. 

Zenos spun around, his eyes scanning the battleground. You were at the far end, where you had been before, standing on top of those shifting runes you’d laid down at the beginning of the fight.

A gash split open the skin at your shoulder, cutting near to the bone, it looked like. Red flowered on your shoulder, seeping through cloth and armor alike, brilliant proof of his blade's touch on your skin.

Finally, he’d done something, made his mark on you. This game of cat and mouse would end now; he was sick of fruitlessly chasing you from one corner of the room to another. You’d begun to throw that scorching fire at him, and his heart soared at the sight of your vicious smile.

So reckless with your own safety, so driven and calculated. Your strategy had served you well so far; it was obvious enough that you were trying to keep him at a distance to render him harmless while you rained fire on him from afar.

Zenos had partly allowed it to happen. He had been watching your every move, studying the subtle expression and noises you gave off, from the tilt of your weapon to the direction of your gaze. Studying this truest expression of yourself and your abilities, in this most intimate engagement of weapon and will.

With purpose, he shot towards you.

You met blade with shield, and Zenos began to feel uneasy. Doing you harm while you assumed that defensive stance would be difficult. You bash him with the shield and he recoils for a moment, the weight of the solid metal plate hitting him hard.

Light halos above you as you cast some spell of healing, and the wound he gave you disappeared immediately.

That was of no consequence. Now that he was in range, Zenos could put all his strength and skill with the blade to good use. Your sword met his in a glancing clash, but he was well able to get blows on you through your guard.

Of the strikes you do land on him Zenos feels nearly nothing, your sword clanging against his armor ineffectively. More than a scratch perhaps, but nothing compared to what he could deliver onto you.

But offense was not the purpose of your sword and shield techniques; it was obvious enough that the discipline you used now was one of a defender.

One for endurance, for outlasting, for taking every single attack your enemy could possibly deliver, and rising up once more as the terrifying proof of your determination.

You blocked a good portion of his attacks, and one time even tried to slam your shield into the base of his weapon to knock it from his hand. An ingenious idea, indeed, but of course he would sooner die than be disarmed.

Blow after blow he landed, and at last your new strategy became apparent – your healing spell, it seemed was quite powerful. Combined with your protective abilities and your shield, you were well on your way to defeating him through sheer attrition.

It was a strategy Zenos had no direct answer for. He could only try and overwhelm you with sheer force, and hope the shock of his attacks would make you slip up.

He'd tried and failed to interrupt your spell once. Digging his blade into the floor, Zenos prepared himself once more for to stun you into motionlessness. 

This time, you resisted.

Blade only just sliding out of the gash it had made in the metal of the ground, he was barely able to meet your axe with his blade. He looked up to meet your eyes, which seemed to glow red, burning into him.

You were angry – enraged. Zenos knew with one look in your eyes that you were filled with a fury born of pride. Thrills traveled through him as he considered the possibility that you had been reminded of your defeat in the Reach. So arrogant, so brutally unforgiving towards the source of your insult.

So like him.

An impossible, insurmountable weight fell upon him with your every swing, an unbelievable strength that Zenos found perfectly believable, because he possessed it himself. A feral grace guided your every motion, each miss and clash alike adding to your onslaught.

Relentless, you lashed out at him, pressing forth without any thought for your own well being.

That axe could be the death of him. The might that had felled gods was behind your blows, the true wrath of the Warrior of Light. If he made a single mistake, a single misjudgment or misstep in this glorious dance with you.

If Zenos dared to insult you with anything but his truest might, he would suffer grievous harm. The likes of which his body had never known. The pain of which he had never suffered. A smile spread over his face. He would have laughed, but he hadn’t the breath to spare.

Blood coursing through his veins, singing to him, threatening to burst through his chest! His every heartbeat was a thunderclap! The beast before him would have his blood, rip through skin and bone alike, you would not be denied. The rain of your axe upon his blade was all to vivid a reminder.

Your face had formed a smile, a thing as vicious and joyful as his own, an expression beyond beauty. Your fury was a sight to behold, truly divine. How would you look once you were satiated; how would you revel in your victory once you tore it from his flesh?

Need, intense and curious, burned through him along with the unfamiliar sensation, the exertion that strained through his every muscle.

Oh, no other on earth could make him feel this way. And all this, from just a spar!

As you let loose a grand cry – no, a savage roar, and hefted your great weapon to deal a terrible blow, his heart skipping a beat in anticipation of your –

-

Cut short.

The sound of a blade not his own swinging through the air sliced through Zenos’s awareness, blunt and uninvited.

He registered the feeling of rage within you disappearing, though it was replaced with an emotion not wholly unlike it.

How strange it was indeed, Zenos thought at the edge of his mind, that he seemed to be able to detect such a thing. He had been reading you and your face the whole battle, of course, but the clarity of his judgement was… supernatural. The Resonance, perhaps?

Later, he would speak to Aulus. At the moment he had this wretch to deal with.

The Doman’s figure was clear in the doorway, he had drawn and slashed his weapon through the air in warning. He looked so terribly tall and pitiful in the doorway, Zenos mused to himself, and he would likely look even more pitiful when dead.

As fate would have it, however, there had been another interloper just yesterday – with Aulus. When the boy’s Doman regiment had undoubtedly arrived. Interesting.

Looking at you, Zenos could tell you had drawn out a speak and jumped over to the location; you’d gotten here just after he had. Likely in your anger you had noticed this little insect later than he had.

It was time to see if there was any useful information to be gathered from this pathetic mewling creature who had interrupted you, and then dispose of him.

A quick glance at the fool’s garb and he could tell the rank. Unusually high, for one not of Garlean origin. It would not save him. Zenos would have killed even another Legatus for such an insult; it was only his own father who was above him in imperial hierarchy.

Had this worthless animal finished its mewling yet? He had no interest in excuses.

“The Doman Ambassador. Tribunus, yes? Explain your purpose, infringing in these moments between your betters.” Zenos said as he closed in on him without hesitation. The look in the Ambassador’s eyes would have almost been entertaining on its own, but Zenos had far better entertainment just moments ago.

And this pathetic creature had interrupted it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually intended to be a part of one much larger chapter, but given some POV switching that goes on (the next chapter will go back to the WoL POV) and how long this ended up being, I figured I might as well just post this and give the next part its own start. 
> 
> It's a little demoralizing, because I've been intending for a while to post longer chapters, but the POV change feels very fast and very abrupt without it. Additionally, if I don't post chapters when I them written - I actually have the next *checks draft* 4.5 chapters finished, ish - I run the risk of outright never posting them because I want to perpetually revise everything. 
> 
> Personally, though, I've actually had a really good stroke of luck today - a project due tomorrow has been pushed back until Monday - and I felt in my heart the deep need to share my good fortune! God, it made me so happy when the date got pushed back, but I was also proud because I'd already done a whole lot (TWO whole days before the due date - living legend right here). The next chapter will be up... when it's up. I can't quite promise two days, but I'm actually pretty excited to get to these later parts of the story and see what ya'll think of it. 
> 
> Consider this sort of a half-chapter, as well, since it's basically the last chapter written from Zenos's POV. Like I said, this started out as the beginning part of a much larger chapter but was cut down for readability. I personally like reading longer chapters, so that's what I'll be trying to deliver in the future, but I guess time will tell. Thank you all for reading :D


	8. (Mis)fortune

The time for battle was clearly over. The Soul of the Dragoon burned once within you, a flare of Azure, before doing as it was bid and being dismissed. You palmed your Dark Knight crystal, clutching it tightly for a moment before settling down.

 _Missed me?_ Fray asked. You did, but both of you knew that already.

A sharp gasp turned your attention to the conversation before you.

_I almost feel sorry for him._

You had never heard Zenos’s voice so filled with danger – annoyance. It was surprising that he hadn’t killed this ‘Tribunus’ on the spot already for this mortal insult. You were almost grateful though; without the intervention you weren’t entirely sure what you would have done to Zenos.

If you would have stopped at mere bloodshed, or pressed forth to utterly crush your challenger…

For his part, the Doman interloper appeared quite horrified with himself.

“My sincerest apologies, Lord Zenos! I had merely seen you being attacked, and was moved to action.”

 _Apologies are not going to help you,_ Fray observed. Internally you nodded. Honestly, there might not be anything at all that could save the young man’s life. He would probably die here, in front of you, to Zenos’s blade.

The blade he’d brought out to draw your blood, killing this terrified boy who had interrupted you.

“That had been your only purpose here, intruding upon our battlefield as we sparred?” With just those words you knew Zenos was finished. The boy was dead.

 _Really?_ You didn’t have a response for Fray, merely stepped forwards, so that you were closer to the boy than Zenos was. _Really? You’re going to do this now? Who cares what happens to this Doman who serves Garlemald? He attacked us, and when we were fighting Zenos, no less! Haven’t we agreed to stop trying to – this is **stupid!**_

It was. And still you spoke up.

“Do you want to kill your own man or continue our duel?” You said, keeping his sword in sight.

Zenos didn’t miss your careful gaze. He quirked a brow towards you, “You mean to tell me you are not at all offended by this careless intrusion?”

 _The stupid child ruined the mood. Let Zenos kill him already._ No, Fray. It wasn’t like the mood was going to _come back_ with the Doman dead. _Who knows? We could make a game of it, bloody ourselves up some. Maybe even fight over who gets to finish him._

A morbid thought indeed; hunting and slaughtering the boy like two animals fighting for the same prey. Zenos would be all for it, no doubt.

You shrugged, “Is it so unreasonable of him to think that we were actually trying to kill each other?”

_Yes._

“Yes.” Zenos’s deadpan response matched Fray’s almost exactly, but there was a dangerous edge to it, much like his blade as it rose in the air.

 _I could have warned you that would be the wrong thing to say; this airship would not be intact if we were fighting seriously._ The katana glinted, catching the light as it reached the position for a great swing.

 _De-escalate, now._ You could feel how Fray loathed to give you advice, but still hissed it out anyways, _Zenos is twice as annoyed as we are and has not a thousandth of our regard for life. Put his focus on something else or this stupid boy will die. Now._

On instinct, you _attack._

Greatsword clashed against samurai blade; weight and momentum against the raw strength Zenos had to exert to keep your weapon from falling own on him. 

Flickering within you was the ghost of the fight you’d been having earlier, the specter of a Warrior of Light long faded. You wouldn’t back down, not when Zenos shoved his blade hard against you, nor when you felt his heavy breaths on your cheek.

Your eyes met him in an even greater clash. Hard, determined – you’d fight, bleed, die if you had to. Not for the Doman boy, not even for the sake of fighting; even your morals, such as they were, hadn't been what moved you. If Zenos wanted this boy dead your darkside was right - there wasn't any good reason to stop him.

But you’d be damned if you let Zenos kill someone you wanted to save. You were the Warrior of Light no matter what; even if you were picking your battles, the ones you fought, you would win.

Zenos wouldn’t beat you. You would _not let_ Zenos defeat you. Not over this, not over **anything.**

After returning your gaze – no, _scrutinizing_ your gaze, running over your face and posture several times over, Zenos relented.

“So determined to save a traitor, barely more than a boy and already a traitor to his people?” Zenos murmured as he released the pressure of his sword until it merely rested against your own. That’s when you knew the danger was over, that he’d lost interest in the boy. Now he was more interested in probing you.

_He’s entirely correct, too. This boy’s betrayed all that Doma stood for, all we fought to renew about the nation._

You sighed, “It was an honest mistake.”

“Honest? All actions are honest, they all reveal the truth of a man’s intentions, of his abilities. And mistakes reveal weakness. Failure. Every soul in the Twelfth Legion knows the price of that.”

“That’s a waste of life, though. Didn’t I lose to you once, and then get stronger?” You said.

Zenos wouldn’t think less of you at the comparison, but it still annoyed you to have to make. Was he really so impulsive?

_Not so much impulsive as pragmatic. The boy isn’t anything important, we both know that, and his desire to kill the fool who interrupted us is stronger than anything the boy can do for him._

“The life of this boy is worth so much to you?”

“Is he worth so little to _you?”_ You snapped back, “I thought you didn’t hate the Domans?”

Zenos blinked at you. You stared back expectantly, impatiently. Eager to hear his answers – or rather, his defense.

“I do not. But neither do I care to let the foolish and irreverent live. There are many who can take his place.” Drawling at you with that low voice of his, Zenos spared the subject at hand a passing glance.

“You don’t gain anything from killing him, you only lose his life.” You figured logic might prevail where morals had failed you. Had Zenos truly been _that_ annoyed at the interruption? “It’s not as though he cannot ever grow into someone worthwhile.”

Zenos laughed at that. Relieved, you noticed he sounded terribly condescending even in his laughter, arrogant and assured to a fault. But not without reason.

“So much faith you have in such a weak, pathetic creature. But then, you always were fond of that – protecting the weak, as their Champion. Slaying their so-called gods for them.” Zenos smiled at you and let his blade fall to the side.

You did the same, putting your greatsword away as you said, “I just don’t see any reason for him to die over this.”

“Very well, since you think his life is so worthwhile,” Zenos’s smile grew wicked as he gestured with the tip of his weapon towards the Doman.

Suspicion rises in your chest. “He’s yours now. Tribunus, your new occupation will be to accompany my guest, the Warrior of Light. I give you this rare chance to prove your worth - see to it that you do not disappoint.”

The Doman nodded eagerly at the man who was just about to kill him, smiling.

_What. Have you done._

Fray was right. You’d made a terrible mistake. Whether or not he’d wanted to put you under watch before, now Zenos was. This _child._

“I don’t need a chaperone, Zenos.” You said. _It doesn’t make sense for him to do this now, especially when he’d asked us for cooperation over the matter with Aulus. Clearly, he trusts us._

Zenos, for his part, appeared unperturbed by your annoyance, “I had supposed you would be pleased with this _promising_ Doman assigned to be your guide around the ship. Unless I am mistaken, and his life may be discarded…?”

Ready to lash out, his blade hovered. It was still pointed at the Doman.

“Fine!” You barked out. Zenos smirked at his victory.

 _He deserves it,_ Fray muttered, and you nearly winced, _you’re an idiot. Letting your pride get away from you like that. And with the Soul of the Warrior, as well._

Your own darkside, taking Zenos’s side over yours. Somehow, you weren’t even surprised.

“He’d better not follow me into my room,” You mumble to yourself, but even if you’d whispered it would have been loud enough for Zenos to hear.

With a scoff he approached you, “If he begins to annoy you, dispose of him. As far as I am concerned his life was over the moment he stepped into my place of battle.”

You sighed, “I can’t kill someone just for annoying me.”

“Then suffer the consequences of your weakness.” Zenos said easily, “It is of no matter to me; the boy is yours to do with as you will. If you wish him to leave you be, make it happen yourself.”

 _You deserve it. Zenos is right. This was so stupid, so pointless. Why don’t you ever **listen?** _ Fray hissed the words out with twice the usual venom.

Dejected, you turned to your new entourage. “You have a name?”

“Yes.” He stared at you for a moment, then straightened, “Asahi sas Brutus, Tribunus of the Twelfth Legion. Lord Zenos has commanded me to escort you for the remainder of your journey with us.”

You shot Zenos a scathing look that wins you a raised brow.

A harder, more intense glare was only received with an idle shrug, though his eyes flickered with entertainment.

 _You got yourself into this, you can get yourself out of it._ What was Fray suggesting, you kill the boy? _I’m suggesting you **listen** to me next time, so that you don’t have to! Don’t fight battles you don’t want to fight, wasn’t that what we’d decided on?_

Well, Fray was going to be of no help in this. It seemed you really were on your own here. You swallowed another sigh and gestured to Asahi.

“All right then, escort, let’s see if we can’t find our way back to my quarters. I don’t have any more business here.” You said the last sentence with a little stiffness, but it only made Zenos chuckle.

“May our next meeting not be cut short, Eikon Slayer,” Zenos told you as farewell.

With your back to him as you walk away, you retort, “Don’t wish yourself misfortune, you were losing that battle.”

Laughter, low and ominous, was all that followed you and Asahi out of the area.

 

 

Asahi sheathed his weapon, the stress slowly leaving his body as he walked the dark grey halls of the airship alongside you. He had wanted to intervene, wanted to scold you for contradicting Lord Zenos, but you were arguing in favor of his life.

It was unthinkable for him to make such a grievous error before his Prince, Asahi knew, his face flushing with shame. To even pretend that Lord Zenos could be defeated by anyone, to _dare_ and intervene though Asahi could ever have a place on his Lord’s sacred battlefield. Lord Zenos was right; he deserved death.

You were the one disputing that judgement. Ashamed and unworthy though he was, Asahi would reap the benefits.

Still, to hear someone dispute his potential to Lord Zenos – to hear Lord Zenos not dismissing you outright – Asahi could not believe his good fortune.

And then Lord Zenos assigned him to be your entourage. To watch over his personal guest, guide you through the ship and potentially later through – Asahi had heard you were bound for the Lord’s _personal villa_ , if he got along with you he may well accompany you there.

You took a wrong turn and Asahi reached out to tap you on the arm. No need for any more contact than necessary. “This way, Eikon Slayer.”

Eikon Slayer. That had been what his Lord had called you – you hadn’t any official title or Garlean rank, but he had heard of you. You’d liberated Doma, freeing it from the disgrace of a Viceroy. Asahi had to control his expression, keep it from contorting in anger. Lord Zenos had trusted that wretch and she had failed him.

Whatever death you granted her had been far too merciful.

Past that, you had doubtless earned the Lord’s regard by your culling of the Eikons, which Asahi had to admit were quite legendary and worthy of respect, as far as accomplishments go.

You and Garlemald were a match made in heaven, certainly – the less civilized lands, away from the Lord’s reach had summoned up those false gods, and you had killed them. Garlemald’s highest priority was the extermination of those vile creatures. Although Lord Zenos had…

Asahi shook his head and continued the line of thought.

There had been the incident of Obviously you’d opposed the empire in Doma, but Asahi personally couldn’t bring himself to hold the liberation of his homeland against you.

True, it would have been better to have his homeland absorbed into the empire, if his people could learn and grow from the knowledge and technology of Garlemald, but anything was better than that _witch._

There were even some in Garlemald who thought of the loss of Doma as a good thing, to say nothing of Lord Zenos’s apparent indifference towards it.

In fact… it wouldn’t be too uncalled for to introduce you to one of his attaches, would it? Though you would be insulated from many things within Lord Zenos’s villa, it would always be good for you to know something of the land’s politics.

Fortunate was Asahi to have aligned himself with the political faction he had. You could be quite the boon for the Populares, and in turn they could provide you with a nexus for support in your coming days. 

Asahi smiled a true smile to himself, not noticing your inquisitive glances.

So soon into this endeavor and he was already proving himself an exceptional entourage; Asahi could think of quite a few things he could do to help his Lord’s special guest. Lord Zenos would be pleased. Not today, perhaps, and maybe not in quite a while – but eventually, he’d earn his way into his Lord’s good graces.

It was no time to reveal his knowledge to Lord Zenos. Asahi had sought him out soon after getting aboard the ship for that very reason, but after his height of stupidity today he did not dare.

He’d already taken care of the person who’d told him; as far as Asahi knew, the secret was safe. Lord Zenos already held him in low regard and revealing that he’d discovered one of his secrets would surely result in his death.

Asahi might have accepted the judgement before – had you not convinced Lord Zenos there was something worthwhile in his life, that he was worthy of an opportunity to prove himself.

Yes. He would serve you, the Eikon Slayer, faithfully and loyally, granting you an advantage in Garlemald and earning his way into your good graces. From there Asahi would convince you to keep him by your side, and eventually Lord Zenos would see what Asahi had done at his command.

He would see Asahi’s worth as a servant and take him for himself.

The thought sent thrills through him and put a smile on his face as he turned to bid you farewell. It would not be meet of him to be any less than a perfect entourage for his Lord's valued guest, after all.

“If you have any need of me at all, please remember where my quarters were. You may call on me any time, I should be happy to repay what you’ve done for me today.”

You nodded at him in dismissal and he saluted and left, smiling all the while.

 

 

You’re relieved when you get to you room, Asahi turning to you with an _extremely_ polite smile, and urging you to come to him if you needed him.

Why would you need Asahi. What possible reason could you have. _Oh, you heard him. He’s happy to repay us. If you don’t seek him out yourself Asahi will inevitably find you on his own, like everyone else who has ever wanted something from us._

Fray still sounded bitter about the whole thing, which you’d expected, but it didn’t make anything better. Still, you were stuck in this boat together, your darkside knew that. _You can always just kill him._

…So maybe you were treading water and Fray was on the boat, laughing derisively at your efforts. All the same, you should probably go see Asahi sometime.

Maybe you could ask him about Doma, and how he’d become such a… fervent supporter of the Garlean regime, especially serving under someone like _Zenos._ If nothing else he might be able to tell you what kind of reception to expect from the people of Garlemald. The Emperor had known of you, as had Regula and most of the other imperials you’d encountered outside of Doma.

But what about actual Garleans? Ordinary citizens, just going about the day’s work? You didn’t know at all what their live were like, much less what they’d been told about the Eikons and who had been killing them in distant, “savage” countries.

Sighing, you went over to sit on the couch, lounging back as you yanked off you kicked off your boots. Your muscles ached with the day’s exertion; you _had_ gone pretty hard in that fight. You’d used up your entire pool of mana a few times over, not to mention took some serious punishment from Zenos’s vicious attacks.

Just a spar indeed.

_Who do you think you’re fooling?_

Well, not Fray, obviously. But it couldn’t hurt to engage in some willful self-delusion every once in a while… _If I know, then you know. Acknowledge it or don’t, the truth is there in your mind._

Truth indeed. What was going to happen when you got to Garlemald, how this little adventure of yours with the Crown Prince you’d meant to kill was _really_ going to end. You’d seen his intentions on the battlefield, clear as day, shining bright across the flames and fury.

It was the reason Zenos had really invited you to come with him, why he had been looking at you and closing distance with you. Invading your space, touching you with familiarity. Inviting you to spar with him.

That smile wasn’t natural to his face, and the light you’d seen wasn’t always in his eyes. Life had only truly come to the man during your battle, when you fought and both of you risked your life and limb in the act. The trepidation, the exhilaration, and yes, even the thrill you’d felt there, fighting against one such as Zenos.

And the thrill you had seen in his eyes in turn.

 _He means to battle still. Zenos still wants to fight us._ You. Didn’t want to think about it.

_We could die._

Everyone dies.

_We could die to Zenos._

Zenos wasn’t going to kill you. He hadn’t killed you the first time, or the second time. And if he defeated you the third time, he’d spare you again, asking only that you grow stronger.

 _That… could happen. But we don’t know for sure._ Nothing in this world was certain. But as sure as you were of anything, you knew it. He didn’t want to kill you. Zenos wanted you to kill him, or at least come very close. Maybe you could die in the battle, maybe it would end with both of you dying. He _could_ kill you.

But he wouldn’t do it intentionally. Zenos yae Galvus did not want you dead.

The only time he had ever been alive was when he was fighting you. There was a reason he had smiled, laughed, and indulged himself in your presence. And it was all in anticipation of some great battle, some grand finale he was building up in his head that he hadn’t seen fit to imitate with you yet.

 _Why even invite us to Garlemald, then?_  Fray had a point. What would be the difference between fighting you in Ala Mhigo, and fighting you in Garlemald? Zenos didn't strike you as the patient sort, although it was possible he just wanted to spend more time fighting you overall.

Confidence, too, was chief among the Crown Prince's traits. He couldn't have decided to try to befriend you in order to get to know you better and grow more powerful before your confrontation. Perhaps Zenos didn’t mean for some climactic battle after all - maybe he just wanted a lifelong sparring partner.

_Now when you put it like that…_

Unlikely in the extreme; this was the man who had told you to live "for the time between seconds", a man who himself only lived for the fleeting rush of battle. Zenos had been watching you closely during that spar, sizing you up, measuring your strategy and habits. But it still hadn't felt like he was trying to make a plan to defeat you in the future.

An ecstatic and practiced brutality had been behind his every strike, bent on testing the extent of your strength, and in so doing, seeing the limits of his own. Zenos fought as though he had nothing to lose, recklessly, enjoying the challenge and how he’d had to rise to it. Zenos had fought like he wanted to win.

He fought like you.

That thought haunts you even more than Zenos’s foreboding laughter or the euphoric grin and violence he’d met you with in battle. You suspected it was even more disturbing than Asahi and his exceptionally happy demeanor. The whole line of thought sent tension through your body, stressed and exhausted. 

Until you hear a knock –

Coming from inside your restroom.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People forget writing Asahi stuff that the kid is a pretty good actor and manipulator. He plays perfectly nice with the WoL until he’s explicitly sure the WoL won’t be able to kill him for his obnoxiousness and it won’t affect his mission.  
> He also only ever hated the WoL exclusively for killing Zenos. By all means, he appears to care about Doma and its people (although not as much as he cares about Zenos), he’s just also a psycho Garlean nationalist/apologist.
> 
> Or maybe not! Maybe even not that! If Asahi was actually aligned with the Populares, which would have made sense since Varis made him Ambassador, then he may very well have wanted Garlemald to be more peaceful and less imperialistic. Sure he’s definitely a brainwashed bastard who thinks Garleans are soooo much better and more civilized, but it’s very possible he legitimately wants Doma to be a better place.
> 
> Asahi is an ass, but not as much of an ass as you’d expect.
> 
> His parents were literally horrible people. He knew that from how they treated Yotsuyu (otherwise he wouldn’t have reunited them to hurt her). As for Yotsuyu – well, everyone who cares about Doma hates her. She’s the “Witch of Doma”, and it’s mentioned several times that she was appointed Viceroy specifically because she was a petty bitch who had no business being Viceroy. 
> 
> Asahi doesn’t know that the appointment of Yotsuyu was done intentionally to “bleed Doma of hope”. He just sees Yotsuyu in power, being… well, you guys saw her. She is literally a terrible, terrible human being who deserves far more hate than a million Asahis. People like Yotsuyu because the cute Tsuyu arc, which is nice, but it’s not a redemption ark. She doesn’t end up as a good person at the end, just a bitter person who summoned a primal and dies after killing the last member of her family. 
> 
> I actually really liked how the whole thing was handled, because while amnesia!Yotsuyu gets a pass, which is somewhat okay, when Yotsuyu returns the characters all acknowledge she was a bad person, and she herself says Gosetsu will mourn Tsuyu - not her. Not the Witch of Doma. It was a nice arc, but it doesn’t make Yotsuyu any more than a person who made Domans suffer and die for fun. Execution was basically what she would have deserved anyways.
> 
> But to return to my point, the Asahi you meet in the game is kind of crazy. He has issues. This Asahi hasn’t lost the love of his life and Yotsuyu is out of the picture. So, we get a more stable, manipulative Asahi who, while jealous of the WoL, isn’t particularly angry or hateful. He’s just trying to use the situation he’s in to his advantage. 
> 
> …Or is he?
> 
> aka, oh thank god I can finally do Plot Things next chapter goodness the pace of this story is killing me please just let me do the Plot Thing so I don't feel like I'm elaborating on the WoL and Zenos's feelings over and over and over


	9. Don't want

You approached the room quietly, carefully. _Don’t be stupid. The person inside just knocked, they obviously know that we are here. Just go over and open it already._

Now that you were paying _attention_ – that’s enough Fray, it’s not like either of you had sensed anything – you could feel the power behind the door, the emanating anger and rage. It was familiar to you, far too familiar. You took another step to the door, quietly, then stopped.

_Go already. No point dragging this out._

You. Really didn’t want to open the door. At all. If you left, you wondered, would he follow you? _Almost certainly. He has to be the one we sensed earlier, you know. He’s been watching us._

Dread creeps up your spine at the though. He’d been watching, he’d been _watching,_ what had he _thought?_ Seeing you with Zenos, seeing you… not murdering Zenos. Was that something to be ashamed of? What a strange thought, that someone would think badly of you for not killing someone.

Upon opening the door, a horror like none other seized your chest.

A shock bolted through your spine, you backed away quickly, only barely aware of the sofa once you ran into it. You didn’t fall over, but only because he hadn’t pursued you.

“Finally.” He was as gruff as you remember him.

 _“Estinien?!”_ It was him, as you’d suspected before opening the door, and still his face had shocked you. “What are you doing here? Where – where have you _been?”_

“Much the same I mean to ask you,” Estinien asked lowly, prowling forwards.

You walked forwards, but only to give yourself more room to retreat, maneuvering around the furniture gracelessly. “I’ve been fighting a war in Ala Mhigo, in Doma. I’m here as the end of that. What about you?”

“As the end of that?” Estinien repeated. “Yes, that’s why I’ve come here as well. Though I fail to see how aligning yourself with the _Crown Prince of Garlemald_ is supposed to end the war you’ve led my countrymen into!”

Hidden as he was, you had no idea how Estinien knew so much about the war in Ala Mhigo. And Ishgard’s involvement in it.

“The entire Eorzean Alliance decided to go to war in Ala Mhigo,” You spoke back as you stared at the floor, unwilling to meet what you knew would be accusing eyes, “It was not my decision – _nothing_ was my decision, it has never been my decision.”

Estinien was close enough that you could hear his soft snort, “Pray tell what else was not your decision? The choice to board this airship, headed to the Empire? To befriend the Viceroy – the Crown Prince of Garlemald?!”

 _Befriend_ was… not the word you’d use.

“I agreed to come in order to get Zenos – to get the Viceroy to leave. He promised to withdraw his entire Legion if I came with him.”

Boots appeared at the edge of the carpet you’d found so much more interesting than Estinien’s face. You took another step back.

“And you keep faith in his promise? With the fate of nations and their peoples hanging in the balance? You’d agreed to come with him instead of fighting him, like you _came here_ to do?”

The fury in his voice makes you snap your head up to see him.

Immediately, you wished you hadn’t.

Estinien’s steely blue eyes glowed red with rage, his brows drawn together in a hard, stern anger. Unforgiving lines etched on his face, contorted in anger as it was.

“I… I didn’t want to kill him.” Even to your ears, it sounded like a paltry excuse. But it was the truth.

“Tis a betrayal. A betrayal, to all those in Ishgard who had believed in you, to Haurchefant!” Estinien snarled, his lips curling back savagely, his fangs bared to bite, even if only with words.

Words made for hurting, said to cut you in places your armor could not protect you. You’d thought you’d made your resolutions about this. Left everything behind. That you were above this, that you couldn’t be demanded, forced to do things you didn’t want to do anymore.

“You were their hero – our hero, everyone’s hero! To those who depended upon you, believed you would do everything you could for them!”

Teach you to think you could change yourself. And just by accepting Zenos’s hand. Just by leaving behind all those people, all your _problems_ in Eorzea. Did you think you would become a different person, that you were no longer a weapon?

 _Shut up! Shut him up,_ Fray hisses, _Give me control! Do anything, do **anything** but stand here and take this!_

Estinien took a step forward, and then another when you took a step back. Like he was cornering his prey, back to his dragon slaying ways, cutting off your means of escape, he closed in on you.

“He gave his life for you – for a _hero._ ‘A smile better suits a hero’, is that not what he said? And you do _this_ with the life Haurchefant traded his own for! What would he think, if he could see you now?! He believed in you!”

_“I know you cannot disappoint me.”_

“Believed in me?” You heard yourself ask. You weren’t sure why you were saying it, what you were saying. The words were coming from your mouth and somehow you were stringing them into sentences. It felt as though someone else had said them.

“You were his hero, nay, a hero to all of Ishgard. Lord Aymeric would have done _anything_ for you!” Estinien said, and he sounded shocked that you hadn’t already known this.

“Ishgard would have done anything for you! They joined the Alliance for you, they followed you into a war not their own after – after a thousand years of war! And you abandoned them. Abandoned us!”

“Abandoned you to what?” Your voice was getting louder. And you thought you knew why; you thought you were angry.

Estinien was angry too. “To the Primals, you fool! To Garlemald, when they choose to return. Even the beastmen, and the Ascians, those enemies which all threaten Eorzea and her allies!”

And then was your fury released.

“Ah, yes,” You snap, meeting his gaze without hesitation. “Eorzea. The collection of nations who cannot defend themselves, cannot take care of themselves. They rely on me, a single person, to deal with all their problems.”

This time you take a step forward. Estinien’s instincts cried for him to back off, and Nidhogg demanded he shed blood. The dragoon felt helpless before you, torn as he was.

“Again and again I risk me life!” Now that the flood was opened, to come crashing down upon him, “Always mine! What will you do when I am gone, when I die? Whether from old age, or from the thousand times a day you ask me to kill the enemies that you yourselves cannot?”

Estinien had no words for that. He stared in silence.

There would be no stopping you at all; for a moment you almost pitied Estinien. He was one of those who was least responsible for your grievances. But he had provoked you all the same.

“And what about me? All of you owe your lives, the peaceful world you live in, to me. And it’s exactly because of you people who rely on me that I cannot live _my own_ life! I can’t do anything, I’m some kind of idol, some kind of public possession, a thing and not a person anymore! A weapon!”

It felt good, getting it out like this. It felt good like it hadn’t felt in a long time. You caught your breath and stared Estinien down, unrelenting. _What has he to say to this?_

The dragoon had once held his lance straight up, ready to strike. Now it wavered in his grip. Once he had also glared at you, blue eyes you had rarely seen before burning with rage now quenched by your onslaught. He swallowed hard. Estinien was unused to this, unused to explanations, justifications, indignation. He had always done his duty. _Chase vengeance._

Quiet, Nidhogg.

This was no place for such thoughts. You would not, should not be persuaded to return by a snarling dragon, a snarling dragoon. If anything would persuade you to return, it would be the soft things, the things you had left behind that would be destroyed in your absence.

Estinien had never been moved by such things, but now he wished he had. It would be easier to make you understand, make you see how much people cared about you, _needed_ you. He wasn’t a kind person, he knew that, he’d never been an empathetic person, he’d never been the person who protected others because it was the right thing to do.

Estinien had never been a hero. Just an angry child who had his home and family stolen by a dragon, and then turned out to be the same kind of creature the dragon was. Obsessed, unable to move on. Someone else should be here, talking to you in place. Aymeric should be here.

Aymeric could do this, Aymeric was a good man, one who would topple a thousand years of faith for the sake of righteousness. Aymeric wouldn’t have made you angry, wouldn’t have made you sad.

The leader of Ishgard, the one who’d done his best to keep a fool like him alive all these years, Aymeric would have reminded you of all the things you loved, instead of attacking you, making you lash out. All the more to Estinien’s failures; you and the boy had saved his life, and here he was making little of the struggle you’d endured to protect everyone.

If only he could be like Aymeric, like Haurchefant. He didn’t know how to make you smile or remember all the friends you’d had who were counting on you. Trying was all he could do, and even that he would do badly, as he had done everything else, so far. But if he didn’t try at all…

“They deserve their deaths, then?” Estinien asked, as softly as he thought he could manage. “Those who cannot help themselves, those who are unable to fight. Do you mean to leave them to their fate, because they are not worth fighting for?”

All at once your tirade was over. Like ice crashing down on you, you had nothing left but a horrified, resigned understanding. Even Fray couldn’t help you argue with that. The Soul of the Dark Knight would not allow it

 “I… Aren’t _I_ worth fighting for? Don’t _I_ deserve to,” your voice was breaking, like your anger, your words had run out. You were just rambling at this point, like a child caught without excuses.

Your voice was small now. So small. Quiet. Like Nidhogg, Estinien thinks to himself. A being of impossible power subdued and silenced all at once.

At the sight of you wilting, Estinien flinched internally. He would be better after this, he promised himself. He didn’t know what to say now, didn’t know how he could be doing this better, but he’d try to be better. More like the person he hoped to be, instead of the person he was. Obsessed with vengeance, endangering those around him to seek it out.

“Don’t I deserve, don’t I deserve anything, after all I’ve done? Please, I don’t want to keep doing this, I don’t want to be the hero, I don’t want.” You paused, swallowing tears, “Can’t I want something for myself? I just want...”

You didn’t know what you wanted. You didn’t know if you remembered what wanting something felt like. Haurchefant had died lifetimes ago, hadn’t he?

He had to think back to what you were saying before, and even that could not move him to press you. How strange it was, to feel unwilling to attack. Estinien had to go back to that first thing he’d thought, to what he’d thought when he’d seen you, with _him,_ to find something to say to you.

“The Prince?” said Estinien, his voice regaining some of its edge.

Your posture had shifted dramatically; shoulders slumped, arms crossed in front of you as thought to protect yourself from his aggression, face pointed down.

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. I just didn’t want to kill him! He offered me to come with him, take his hand, get _out_ of Eorzea, I wouldn’t have to be the hero anymore, and,” You couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I don’t know, I don’t want to go back, I don’t want to be everyone’s hero anymore.”

 _What does Zenos have to do with anything? Why must our every desire be questioned, be measured against the will of others?_ Finally Fray had something to say. Finally, someone was coming to save you, even if that person was yourself, and even if it was only from the guilt inside your own mind.

_It’s true, we don’t want to leave people to suffer… but if you don’t let people try to fight for themselves, they will suffer anyways. We cannot always be there._

Fray was just trying to help, but Estinien was right. You had left them. Selfishly, not even because you had wanted to leave, but because you had not wanted to kill Zenos, or to die to him.

“You don’t _know anything_? Lives will be lost for this! Good people, innocent people,” Estinien’s heart leaped into his throat, “Defenseless people. Ishgard has the chance to rebuild after a thousand years of war, heal the scars of a thousand years of hatred, because they thought they would be protected. They thought _you_ would protect them!”

“So I have to stay forever?!” You couldn’t accept this. He was right, people would die, but you couldn’t, you _couldn’t,_ you didn’t deserve to be left to this fate after all you’d done for the world already!

“I’ve saved the world and my reward is that I have to keep saving it? I did what everyone wanted! Even leaving like this, I got the Garleans away from Ala Mhigo, didn’t I?”

Tears were in your eyes, how long had there been tears in your eyes? Fray couldn’t tell you. Fray was quiet.

“I, I, haven’t, I did enough, didn’t I?” Your tone is rising, getting higher with desperation, “Haven’t I done enough? I killed all the Primals up until now, I liberated the countries, I fought everyone they told me to fought, I had to do it all alone, there was never anyone beside me.”

Estinien stared at the floor, his hands clenching into fists. He'd thought he had been a good comrade to you in your time. But to look back on all you’d had to do… His time with you had been but a fraction of your struggles. There had been a Primal, too. One you’d had to fight alone, without him, even Ysayle could not join that battle.

“I have to have done enough. Please. I did enough. Haven’t I?”

You were repeating yourself. Over and over, like a broken machine. Estinien didn’t know what you did to deserve this. _They never deserve it._

So rare it was, for Nidhogg to show sorrow. Estinien didn’t bother to hush the dragon, knowing these few words it said held no malice. For once.

“It is not about what you have done. There are yet those who rely on your protection, those you can yet save. You have a duty to the world.” Estinien knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say, when he heard it.

You choked out a sob. You were the Warrior of Light, you were not supposed to cry. You were stoic, Estinien remembered, you rarely even spoke. He hadn’t judged, of course, but you hadn’t even cried at – when Haurchefant – well. That had been the only time he’d even seen you sad.

“Who has ever protected me, why do I, why do I always have to, have to do everything?” _One person protected us. Just once._

Estinien knew he was a fool, but not twice a fool. He wouldn’t bring Haurchefant up again.

“No one else can! You think I would not have shared in your burdens, if I could have? You think Aymeric, or the boy, or any of your other friends would not have helped more if they could have?!” He was getting tired of trying to convince you, but it was an argument he couldn’t afford to lose. Alas, ever had Estinien spoken with his actions, rather than his words.

“So?! I’m going to die! I’ll die one day, no matter how it is I’ll die eventually, and you’ll all need to find a new Weapon of Light or you’ll die yourselves! But this way I can’t even live my own life!”

At this point you’re not thinking of what you’re saying, just crying out your agonies like a child in pain, “All the time, I do it! Risk everything I have, and do it alone, and if I don’t do it then _it’s my fault_ , why do I deserve that? I don’t, I don’t even know if I-”

“Get ahold of yourself! You are the Warrior of-” You hadn’t paused a moment at Estinien’s words, so he fell silent to hear what you said, and…

“-if I have anything left to risk, if I want to live anymore, I don’t want, I don’t want anything why do I always have to _give everything,_ for everyone, please just let me. Please just. Stop. Stop, please.”

A cold shudder went down the Dragoon’s spine.

Nidhogg was silent.

You were silent.

That you had spent so much time contemplating your eventual death, what it would mean for the world. Combined with what you’d said just now… It was a truly terrifying thought. Did you, Estinien swallowed hard, did you really want, after everything…

Did you really want to die?

Seemingly your outburst had been everything you couldn’t say for a long time. And it had taken up most of your spoken words – Estinien remembered you being exceptionally stoic before. And now, even in your tears, you were silent.

If he pressed you, if he insisted. Nay, if he used his name. Just Haurchefant’s name. That would be enough to bring you back now, have you teleport to an Aetheryte in Ala Mhigo or Ishgard. To come back to Eorzea. Estinien could see it now, you had snapped at him to defend yourself, to keep yourself from being dragged back into the duties that you’d come to resent.

A part of him couldn’t help but look down on you for that, for denying those who needed you. Bitterness rose like bile in his throat.

That was why this had happened, wasn’t it? You had too many duties, too many obligations for a single person, and no one to share it with. And people – his lips curled into an ugly frown, shame crept up his belly – people like _him_ would look down on you if ever you just complained about it. You had been denied even the freedom of expression by your status as a hero.

“Eorzea does not need you right this moment.” Estinien heard his voice say. He should apologize, he should tell you he was sorry, he should tell you he would be there for you to share in your trials from now on, even if you didn’t return.

Instead he said, “You will have time to decide how much their lives will weigh on your conscience.”

You winced, shuddered as if he had struck you. He should have said sorry, should have told you it was okay, reassured the hero who had saved him in his darkest hour. You had not come into the enemy’s arms to betray your friends. Why was he attacking you, assaulting you so harshly and hatefully? _No mercy._

Never mind. Estinien knew why he was – why he did as he had done. One day, he swore to himself. One day, when all of this was over, he would be different.

“Why are you even here?” Your question yanked him from his contemplation.

Looking back on your face, he found something completely unexpected. It gave him the strength to be angry at you again, even if he would not push you to return to Eorzea. That impassive, expressionless face. The ever stoic Warrior of Light that he’d just discovered to be a lie. Had Haurchefant known? Had you told anyone at all how you’d felt?

“What is it to you? Do you wish to tell your _Prince,_ ” Estinien spat the word out with all the venom he had left in him, “about the stowaway you’ve found on his vessel?”

“I… no. I wanted to know what brought an Ishgardian onto a Garlean airship. You can’t be here just for me.” The confusion in your voice stoked his ire all the more. How could you _possibly_ not know, how could you be so willfully blind –

“You are wrong on one count.”

“What is that?” Your voice was surprisingly steady. You looked up at him with tearstained eyes. Unhesitant. Ready to face his next words.

-so willfully blind, as he had been. As the Heaven’s Ward had been, as Ishgard had been. And here you were, facing it now, looking him in the eyes despite all the malice he’d shown you. Estinien was almost reminded of _him._

Perhaps he’d been wrong.

Perhaps you wouldn’t come back, if he asked. Maybe, Estinien mused, you truly did mean that people needed to find their own way. What you said had struck a terrifying chord in him that he dared not show to you; it was true. You were more a god to Eorzea than the primals had been, but you were ultimately still mortal. You could still die.

It seemed like an unlikely, impossible thing now. But in ten years? In twenty, thirty? Would you continue to grow in strength, or merely die when your luck ran out and you got caught in a bad spot against a powerful new enemy? Even then, even in fifty, seventy years, time would take you, you would grow weak over the years, or sickly, or just old.

The primals, and the beastmen, and even Garlemald would continue long after that. There was no permanent solution on the horizon, Estinien knew. And perhaps the reason was because, every time people had needed a solution, they hadn’t had to work something out for themselves. They had _you._

Again, that ugly shame. It filled his heart like the great Wyrm’s rage had before, only this time even dying would not solve it. How much had he failed you, how much had Aymeric, the boy, the other Scions – how much had _Eorzea_ failed you, that you felt this way about being their hero?

That you hadn’t felt like you were living your live to the fullest, that you hadn’t been happy among the people you’d saved? You said that you hadn’t even _wanted_ to leave, Estinien realized, you’d just ‘not wanted’ to kill Zenos. You said you meant to ‘live your life’ out away from Eorzea, but that obviously didn’t really mean anything. What… _did_ you want?

“Well? What is it?”

And suddenly he couldn’t say it. He couldn’t play the aggressor anymore, couldn’t demand you fulfill your duties, return to Eorzea, return to be the person no one should have to be.

What would Haurchefant think indeed? The image of the kind, gentle elezen’s face contorting in rage came to mind, and he winced internally. You’d never seen Haurchefant angry, of course, but on rare occasion Estinien had. Each time had been when he had risked his, and sometimes Aymeric’s lives.

Pursuing his prey without recourse, rage burning deep in his belly as he thought of his family, his village. Would he ever be able to let go? Would he ever be able to leave everything behind, like you had?

As far as Estinien knew you were the only person in the world Haurchefant allowed to go risk your life without at least a gentle lecture. Whether that was because his admiration for you was truly so blindly worshipful, or because he simply did not want to harry you when he knew there was nothing else you could do…

There was no way to know now; those answers had died with him. All Estinien knew was that he was very lucky he’d died. If Haruchefant ever discovered that he’d put you in such a state, he would make the Dragoon know the Rage of Halone.

He sighed. Well, if he were to be damned either way, he may as well see if he couldn’t help someone else along the way. She would be much safer if you knew about her existence, at least. Then if she was discovered you could shelter her. That goodwill you had with the Prince should at least be worth _something._

“Lucia,” Estinien said, watching your expression change dramatically into confusion, “Remember Aymeric’s second in command?”

You blinked. _She was a Garlean, and a spy no less. But she’d made it sound like it had been a long time since she’d been on the side of Garlemald. She **was** in Ala Mhigo when we left, though._

“What of her?” You asked, suspicion growing in your chest, the urge to accuse – you bit it down, but only barely. You didn’t want to get Estinien to start going off on you again, you didn’t want to fight anymore.

“She had been rekindling her contacts within Garlemald, attempting to gain a foothold in the Legion to negotiate their exit from Ala Mhigo once the war had been ended.”

It certainly sounded like something Aymeric would have approved of. But. “Is she…?”  

You didn’t say it. Of course, if anyone was listening in it wouldn’t have mattered anyways, but still, it felt too dangerous to ask aloud.

Estinien gave you a curt nod, “And how I got here as well. I trust you will take care this secret.”

Lucia was on the ship. As well as Estinien. And they were – what were they _here_ for?! Estinien hadn’t given you a straight answer at all. You would have asked more, but Estinien had apparently decided he was done harassing you.

You saw him bend his knees to jump, but there was no way, _If he is able to channel Nidhogg’s power, as he had in our battle before, he may indeed be able to,_ and of course he didn’t jump. Why would Fray think he was going to _jump_?

Blinking, you saw Estinien was gone, the distinct aura of a teleportation spell lingering in the area before you. Estinien could teleport? To what Aetheryte? He couldn’t have possibly returned to Eorzea.

_To what Aetheryte indeed. Perhaps he and Lucia brought something between themselves?_

An entire Aetheryte? It was unlikely. And more unlikely still that Estinien and Lucia had found some substitute. It seemed the most likely case really was what you actually wanted.

_He's not gone._

You sighed. It would have been nice if Fray could just let you believe it for a little while.

_He’s not gone. Everyone we left behind is still there. It’s not gone._

It wasn’t a comforting thought, but as usual, Fray was right.

 

 

“Fordola could sense aether on even the most minute of levels,” Aulus mused to himself before the royalty sitting on the examination table before him.

“It is not entirely inconceivable that you could sense such a thing as well. The Resonance _enhances_ aethereal flows that are already present, it does not manipulate or consume aether. A Garlean may be able to learn such sensitivity.”

Zenos scanned over the scientist’s graphs and analyses, “So you mean to say I had been sensing aether coming off the Eikon Slayer, earlier?”

“Undoubtedly. It could not have possibly been anything else. My sources are…” The scientist frowned, “Limited.”

Silently, Zenos glanced over at Aulus before returning to the notes. Immediately, Aulus took the sign to continue.

“Regardless, all available information suggests that the ‘soul crystals’ used by Eorzeans such as the Warrior of Light contain the memories and emotions of the last people to utilize them. Such artifacts would be theoretically capable of generating an aetheric flow like the ‘aura’ you had sensed.”

“You are certain?” Zenos asked as he examined the notes for himself. The memories and emotions of those past… it held the appearance of a completely different ability, one heretofore he had never thought to connect with crystals. And that your Hydaelyn had purportedly appeared to you as a crystal itself.

Interesting.

“My research suggests that the phenomenon you described would be a naturally occurring byproduct of activating a soul crystal, my Lord,” Aulus said, bringing up a diagram of a soul crystal on the screen.

The picture was painfully bare, just an image with notes in the side, but it was still a wealth of information. The information they had, anyways.

“From my understanding an Eorzean may draw knowledge of spells and advanced combat forms from the memories of those who operated the soul crystal before them. Additionally, in some circumstances involving spells, the soul crystal is a key component which guides or instructs in the manipulation of aether.”

Excitement rippled through Zenos. This was what he had wanted, the source of your nearly endless abilities and techniques. Even if he could not use it himself, understanding it would bring him all the closer to understanding _you._ And then…

“How shall we enhance this sensitivity to aether? By extension of this it is possible to sense the nature or usage of a soul crystal, perhaps even from a distance.” Zenos made the demands casually, as though they were nothing extreme.

“Training, my Lord. You already possess the sensory ability to detect aether, and now refinement is needed to obtain your desired level of sensitivity. Try first with a source of aether you know well, then attempt to detect others. Details and predictive ability will come with time, once you have learned to recognize a source of aether by itself.”

Ah, yes. That was the reason he’d recruited this man. The scientist’s enthusiasm knew no bounds, and not only that – Aulus knew when the time for his own work was over, and where the time for his subjects to grow had come. He knew that in order to transcend one’s limits, more than research was needed – power always needed to be put into practice.

“You are of course free to examine whatever materials you desire. My Lord,” Aulus bowed, and Zenos spied some dark bags forming on his eyes. He dismissed the man easily, remaining on the table in the scientist’s special laboratory on the ship.

So useless it seemed to him, all the time people spent sleeping. But a body’s needs must be met, even for lesser creatures who were exceptionally vulnerable when they lie asleep. His lips twitched at the thought of it – you had certainly slept a while the most recent night.

Then again, it was unfair of him to hold you to his own standards – you were, in all reports and records, an ordinary person, your body completely untouched by any kind of modification. You had not been born with a purpose in mind, as he had been, you had not been modified as he had. And still you surpassed your human limitations as only a true warrior could. As he had.

Zenos found himself smiling. How extraordinary you were, to rise up through force of will alone. Well, perhaps the Echo had done something. Either way, it was time for him to use the Echo which he had created for himself – he wouldn’t need to retire for an hour or so yet.

Reaching for his power, trying to grasp it and make it do his bidding had never been particularly easy. But of course, nothing worth his time would be easy, and nothing worth his interest would come without effort.

After several moments, dead silent in the middle of the empty room, focusing on the senses he had and carefully waiting for any signs of the sense he wanted to use, he found it.

The world felt very similar, even when he focused himself, enough that he could tell where the ceruleum was, and of course the other obvious source of aether in the vicinity. And then, in the distance, Zenos felt it.

Suspiciously close to your room, as well… No, if he was correct on the position it _was_ in your room.

That was assuming he could trust his newfound senses, and there truly were two distinct aether sources in the area where you were. However, none on the airship besides you yourself would have any reason to possess a soul crystal. Zenos trusted you, but he was no fool. The odds quite pointed towards an Eorzean having come to either retrieve, or ‘rescue’ you.

His lips twitched in the ghost of a frown. You had shown yourself to be quite capable, knowledgeable in many disciplines. It was possible, no – it was certain that a warrior of your caliber possessed more than one soul crystal. Multitudes, in fact. However, he had not sensed anything outside that infuriated aura you possessed in battle when he had faced you there.

The memory of it quickened his heartbeat. So filled with rage, so raw and unbridled you had been before him. His tongue darted out between his lips. He would see that warrior again, Zenos promised himself. He would see that side of you again.

But for the moment, he could not say he had ever sensed two soul crystals in your possession at once. Whether that meant you could only hold one of them at once, or you had one soul crystal which changed shape, or something else entirely – Zenos could not know for certain. The only one who could know was _you._

Glancing through a window, Zenos saw the stars, the moon, radiant even in the darkness. It was late indeed; even if you were awake now, you would surely be asleep by the time he had gotten to you.

Whatever had come to pass tonight, whatever your intentions were, he would learn them in the morning.

 

Outside your room, unseen, a figure smiled.

Your own reluctance to return to Eorzea, your long-suffering and suppressed feelings about being the Warrior of Light – and the elezen who had dredged up all these feelings from within you. Not to mention the Prince’s newfound control of the Echo, the Resonance.

It was fortunate indeed the incident with the scientist had gone as it had. To think he’d thought you his best opportunity, not knowing what had driven you to come here.

Unexpected though this chain of events was…

He could make use of this.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speaking of characters who talk differently in the game than I've been writing them, it turns out Aulus actually uses much more technical language in the game dialogue than when I've been writing him. At least he's not as popular as Zenos, so not too many people will notice? Writing him in this chapter brought me waaaay back to my English Language and Composition days... Left-click a word, substitute with the longest synonym... good lord, the agony. No writer deserves that experience. It's a habit you have to train yourself out of, because longer words aren't always more fitting and honestly the easier a piece is to read, the better. Unless you're describing something super technical, the simplest terms are often the strongest for getting impressions across. At least that's the way I look t it, lol.
> 
> I'll be adding character tags a few chapters after the actual characters show up, or potentially later, or maybe all at once. I'd rather not spoil appearances, but I could also add characters who are just mentioned in order to disguise the ones who do show up in the chapters. So many options! Let me know what you guys think in the comments. I guess it would have been better to just tag a million characters at the beginning, but I got nervous eventually about some of the characters I had and thought maybe I wasn't going to show so I just removed everything except the ones who had appeared so far... which was basically the WoL, Zenos, and Aulus. What a cast!
> 
> Anyways, would you look at that - I've delivered on my 5k word chapter! There's another one coming up soon, this time with the spicy WoL/Zenos ya'll have been waiting for. Nothing too overt, just some nice juicy interaction I think ya'll will enjoy. In Pirates of the Carribean they say you need like 6 men to get a ship sailing, so please excuse my lone self for taking... um, many many chapters to get this ship out of port! The rival-zone is notoriously difficult to escape from. I'm glad I've got Slow Burn tagged, lol. But first... PLOT!!!! Oh god I'm so glad I can start moving the plot THANK THE LORD 
> 
> Hope you guys are as excited for this fic to finally get moving as I am! Oooooh boy am I excited! 
> 
> Also I did not check this chapter very thoroughly before posting it so... Uh.


	10. Didn't know

Hearing Asahi’s voice waking you up in the morning was… interesting, to say the least. He had knocked on your door, and when you had opened it you found him carrying a hot meal. The boy had somehow expected to _stay_ while you ate it, and you dismissed him immediately, unwilling to bear the awkwardness.

Still, he had told you he would return in a while to ‘help you make use of your time’ on board the airship. You supposed there wasn’t really anything pressing for you to do, but why was Asahi so determined to spend all this time with you? _You did save his life. Didn’t he say he would repay you or some nonsense like that?_

You would very much prefer it if Fray would not remind you of such things, thank you very much. _When did we become so interested in denial?_

When you had something to deny, a secret to hide from your new Garlean allies. You couldn’t let Asahi catch on. What with his fussing and attention to detail – he almost reminded you of Alphinaud. The confrontation from last night was fresh enough in your mind to make you wince remembering it, remembering the time you’d spent, with Alphinaud, Ysayle. Estinien.

“Is something amiss, Eikon Slayer?” Asahi asked, voice raking against your ears innocently. “Was the meal to your liking? If not, please inform me of your preferences, I should be pleased to bring you something more suitable.”

You shook your head idly, finishing off the rest of the plate he’d brought – _personally_ , who did Asahi think he was fooling with that? – and wondered if you should tell him your name, and to call you by it.

 _No. No, no absolutely no. You will do no such thing,_ Fray had drawn the line, apparently, at letting non-native Garlean military know such intimate details of your personal life. Good work, Fray. Your secrets were safe now, for certain.

 _Sarcastic as always, I see._ You might have laughed at that, yesterday.

“No,” You said in response, laying your utensils aside and standing, “It’s just early.”

You had no idea whether or not it was actually particularly early, but you had never been very good in the morning. It wasn’t like Asahi would press you on that detail, anyways.

Luckily, he didn’t.

“If it should please you, Eikon Slayer,” Did Asahi think you liked that title so much? Perhaps it just sounded quite impressive to him, “I am well acquainted with a politician who would much like to meet you. He is a member of the Populares, the faction within Garlemald opposed to the recent imperialistic activity.”

What. _No, what?_

Your shock must have been exceptionally obvious, because Asahi saw it immediately. A smile came over his face, sincerer than what you’d seen on him before, but still a little warped for you to call ‘honest’. Then again, you supposed a Doman who’d allied himself with Garlemald would support reconciliation with his homeland.

“Indeed, there is such a movement. Not all Garleans are determined to cause conflict with the rest of the world, you know.” That smile was far too genial, far too self-satisfied, even if the sentiment was genuine. What is he even thinking.

Hesitant though you were to trust this boy, you weren’t about to let some potential in with some peace-minded Garleans go to waste. If it went well, perhaps you would have some names, or places, to give to Lucia, when you saw her. If you saw her. _How exactly are we going to find her without drawing attention to her?_

The details could be worked out later – for now, you’d do what you could.

“If such people exist, I’d appreciate the introduction.” There, that would give Asahi the impression of usefulness he wanted while still getting your point across. Of course, he could be exaggerating, or lying, but you could figure that out when you met these ‘Populares’.

He smiled, and bid you stand and follow him. Before you left, his eyes flickered across the room, taking it all in. How your bed had been arranged, what armor you wore and whether the furniture had been used, what you’d eaten and what you hadn’t.

Really, it was starting to unnerve you. At least Zenos had been upfront about it when he’d been examining you like he was trying to discover your deepest, darkest inner secrets.

You swallowed at the thought.

“Shall I fetch you a drink?” Asahi chimed in immediately.

Fetch you a drink? _It would seem Asahi has no pride at all, when it comes to his service. Whatever it is, he devotes the whole of his being to his goal, with no reservation._

Ah, there it was. Fray hadn’t said anything to unnerve you in a while, it was overdue, really. Comparing this boy to Zenos – they were beyond different, beyond not being anything like each other, they may as well be polar opposites. Small Doman, giant Garlean; demure and deceptive, intimidating and straightforward.

Asahi was weak enough to need your protection, and Zenos was strong enough that you could barely protect _yourself_ from _him._ The day Zenos yae Galvus needed your protection was the day all of Hydaelyn would be destroyed. Even if you could defeat such a foe, even if you could do it without dying, the world would not survive the battle.

You shook your head. People who’d come at Zenos’s behest was one thing, but accepting something to drink from a traitor to his homeland was another thing completely. It was irrational; you’d already eaten the meal he’d brought you, after all. You were half-waiting for him to point that out, but Asahi accepted your answer without question, leading you outside and through the maze of hallways that was the Garlean airship.

 _An obedient attendant indeed. He wants something out of this._ You weren’t inclined to disagree. Fray was often right, after all.

_Glad you’re finally heeding your better judgement. Keep the boy at arm’s length; remember, we have something to hide, now._

The thought sent shivers down your spine, and you were glad that Asahi was facing forwards and didn’t see it. You had no idea what you were going to do when you next met Zenos. If Asahi’s scrutiny was annoying, his scrutiny would be unbearable. And he’d be able to tell it was, too.

 _If it comes to a confrontation with Zenos, you need only let me take the reins. Asahi is your fault, but Estinien had no right to do what he’d done._ Arguments welled up within you – you were his friend, he fought alongside you, people’s lives were at stake – but now was absolutely not the time. If all went well here, you would be able to help the people you’d left behind, anyways.

“The one we’re going to is an attaché of mine. He is a pureblooded Garlean, and his name is Maxima. More a politician than anything else, but he has heard of you.” For the first time you were glad to hear Asahi’s voice, syrupy and coated with politeness as it was.

“Have many Garleans heard of me?” You asked, genuinely interested.

Asahi’s steps quickened, “The ‘Eikon Slayer’ is known to members of the public who take an interest in Garlean activities outside of Ilsabard. Most of the citizenry is not so,” His pause was almost imperceptible, “invested in the affairs of the military, whatever you may have been led to believe.”

“So what does that mean?” You said with growing impatience. Why was he dancing around this?

“It means that most of the higher echelons of the military, and the very highest of the politicians will recognize you. Beyond that, no one would know you except as the Eikon Slayer, and that would only be from rumors and the like.”

The idea that there were rumors about you in Garlemald was… interesting. You hadn’t thought Varis would have wanted people to know about you and what was happening in Eorzea. But it was possible those rumors hadn’t come from any official sources. Where _did_ the Garlean citizens get their news about other continents from?

You could have asked Asahi these questions, but it would be easier to see for yourself when you got to Garlemald. Even in Zenos’s villa – if that really was where you would end up – you would doubtless encounter some ordinary Garleans. There was no way Zenos lived in a home without servants.

Not that you would have minded, of course. But the idea of Zenos doing household chores himself brought a smile to your lips and you had to hold a chuckle back in your throat. _I would mock you for even imagining it, but it’s terribly amusing. You get a pass for this._

How generous. _I try._

“Ah, here we are.” Asahi said, stopping in front of what looked to be a training room, much smaller than the one you and Zenos had been in the other day.

The door opened on its own – something you’d noticed was common for Garleans – and you walked through. Asahi led you to a man with much darker, almost grey hair quite unlike the normal blond you were accustomed to seeing on Garleans. He was definitely a pureblood; you could see the third eye on his forehead, clear as day.

Ironically, even with his third eye, the man wore glasses.

“Maxima, this is the Eikon Slayer,” Asahi said, which you had expected. He told Maxima your name as well, which you had not expected, and made a gesture towards you as he did so, “I expect the personal guest of Lord Zenos to be shown every possible courtesy.”

 _He knows our name?_ The thought disappears in the wake of the pleasantries you are expected to perform. The Garlean’s smile was refreshing, reaching all the way to his eyes; you shook his outstretched hand with little hesitation.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Maxima inclined his head, “I trust the Ambassador has told you of my inclinations?”

You nodded back, “He says you are a member of the Populares,” the foreign, distinctly Garlean word felt strange in your mouth, “and that you are opposed to Garlemald’s recent expansionist policies.”

“That is our primary point of contention within the Senate, yes. Our major opposition would be the Optimates, the hardline pureblood Garlean faction. Most of the non-pureblooded Garleans support us, while support among the rest of the citizenry is divided.”

It sounded quite like a case of social divisions. It was easy enough to tell that purebloods belonged to higher classes, what with Zenos and Varis both being of that race. Non-purebloods, and those who were not Garlean, period, would likely be at a disadvantage in such a society, especially one that looked down on Eorzeans as ‘savages’.

“A pleasure indeed,” You told him. “I’ve met Garleans who don’t support current imperial policies, but never ones who were…”

“In Garlemald?” Maxima finished with a laugh, “Yes, we’re a reclusive bunch. The only ones you would have met would be people involved in the military somehow; those are the only ships which leave the homeland.”

Whether that was because Garleans were actually ‘reclusive’ or whether Varis had simply closed ports and forbidden travel, you didn’t know. Then again, it would make sense with the derisive attitudes you’d seen from them that Garleans didn’t want to travel to Eorzea. Or anywhere else.

The introductions were over, then. Maxima seemed quite sincere, and you were prepared to accept that his faction really did exist. If it was a lie it was inevitable that he’d slip eventually, and you’d discover it.

“Well, if there is ever anything within my power to do for you, don’t hesitate to call on me.” You shrugged, “I’m aware I might not be of very much use at all in your politics, but if there is something I can do, I would do it gladly. The world has seen quite enough war.”

His eyes softened at hearing your offer, “Just your goodwill is a reassurance. I certainly hadn’t ever imagined meeting you under such,” Maxima gestured vaguely around the two of you, “unusual circumstances, much less ask you for your help. But since you offer it so freely, I will let you know if an opportunity arises.”

You didn’t know if you should be grateful or disappointed that he hadn’t had anything planned. Maxima had no way of knowing you would be there to help him, yes, but neither had anyone else you’d ever helped. Somehow everyone always had some idea of how you could help them whenever you happened to ask if they needed it.

_Oh, give him some time. He’ll come around eventually._

Fray had a tendency to be cynical when – well, Fray was always cynical. But your darkside got especially snarky about it when you were offering your help to others.

“Know that when that hour comes, I will help you.” You say quickly and succinctly. “I don’t expect there will be much I can do. If you couldn’t tell from the title ‘Eikon Slayer’, I’m not much of a politician.”

Maxima chuckled at you, as though you were being intentionally humble.

“You make quite light work of the founding principle of our nation, Eikon Slayer,” Maxima said, the teasing note in his voice bringing a smile to your face. You decided you liked this one.

“I don’t wish to get your hopes up,” You said, an unwelcome truth accompanying your warm sentiments, “There may very well be nothing I can do to help you. I really am only here as a guest.”

It was strange to think of yourself that way, but that was how it was. A guest. On this warship at the invitation of the Crown Prince. Who you had been planning on killing.

There were other Eorzean guests on this airship, ones who hadn’t been invited. Proper courtesy would dictate that you let someone know about it, but somehow you couldn’t see Zenos showing any courtesy to the self-proclaimed ‘stowaways’. He had almost murdered _Asahi_ , and the boy was on _his_ side.

“The Eikon Slayer is in no condition to perform any political favors, Maxima.” Asahi scolded, jumping in at the first opportunity.

You frowned. Had Asahi been listening to the conversation? You’d been the one who offered your help, if Maxima saw a use for it.

And ‘in no condition’? What did the boy see you as, a wounded deer in need of protection? Some poor beast of prey Zenos had dragged in to nurse back to help? Asahi had nearly died a day ago to the man! _Shall we keep count of the times you regret not letting Zenos kill him?_

You didn’t regret not letting Zenos kill him. And there would be no keeping count. _Denial, denial._

Asahi continued, “What you must focus on now is spreading the information to your fellow statesmen and building rapport to ensure that Lord Zenos is not met with opposition regarding his guest. The Eikon Slayer’s reputation will be of use there, especially when dealing with His Radiance.”

Maxima eyed Asahi with some surprise on his own, “Of course, sir. I had intended to do that anyways. Please don’t mistake my gratitude as an indication that I meant to _ask_ the Eikon Slayer for help.”

Sir? It would seem Asahi held some rank after all. It made it all the stranger that Zenos was so willing to – actually, no. If it ever came to it, you suspected Zenos wouldn’t bat an eyelash at murdering his own father.

You sighed, “It’s fine, you don’t need to do anything. You do both remember who invited me here, yes? No one is going to question his wishes.”

“The Emperor may,” Asahi said, surprising you with his candidness about his nation’s leader, “And he is the only person from whom Lord Zenos cannot completely protect you.”

Zenos. Protect you. First you wanted to laugh, then you feel almost nauseous. He’d spared your life two times, but still, your mind recoiled in disgust at the idea of actually needing his protection, of all things. You’d sooner _die._

“That won’t be necessary.” You were surprised to see Maxima nod in response. Asahi’s face tightened outside your view.

“Many of our current Emperor’s recent conquests have centered around the Eikons and the prevention of their summoning,” that _did_ match what Varis had told you when you’d met so long ago, “I suspect you and him will get along quite well.”

“I have met him before.” You said, watching Maxima’s face – it would be interesting to see what he’d thought of that.

Maxima’s brows rose up in surprise, but he didn’t deny your claim. Perhaps out of politeness, but his next words held no hint of doubt or denial.

“If possible, Asahi and I would be pleased to introduce you to His Radiance – or rather, introduce you again to him, when we get to the capital. The Emperor specifically chose Asahi to send on our diplomatic envoy to Doma.”

The reference to Asahi passed you completely as you considered Maxima’s offer. You had to hold back a frown. Zenos hadn’t lied to you; it wouldn’t make sense to, when eventually the lie would be discovered. Was it possible Maxima didn’t know about Zenos’s plans?

“Zenos and I are not headed to the capital,” You said.

Asahi inhaled sharply, and you spared him a glance. His expression quickly returned to its normally pleasant state, but he wasn’t smiling anymore. Honestly, you preferred him like that, but what was so surprising? Maybe it sounded strange that Zenos wasn’t headed to the capital, but surely it wasn’t _that_ strange.

“You and the Prince are close indeed,” Maxima commented, brows raised.

You blink. _Ah. They do not call him ‘Zenos’._

Fray was right; it would be strange for these people to hear his name without a title attached. Perhaps they even considered it disrespectful, you mused to yourself, completely unaware of Asahi’s twitching.

“Excuse my Lord’s guest please, Maxima,” Asahi said, his voice tinted with something stronger than annoyance, “The Eikon Slayer is not accustomed to the stricter Garlean hierarchy. I assure you, no disrespect was meant to Lord Zenos–”

Deep and assured was the voice that interrupted Asahi; the sound of your own name rang out through the room, silencing everyone.

You turned to Zenos, completely unperturbed, “Yes?”

 _Thank the gods someone interrupted that brat._ You would criticize Fray for his harshness, except you agreed. Asahi may have introduced you, but from now on Maxima knew he was free to contact you. It was definitely helpful of him, but you didn’t have the time or the inclinations to cater to the Doman boy’s delicate Garlean sensibilities.

You could see Asahi’s face quickly sour, his façade only barely returning, and in worse form. _Pathetic._

“I imagined you would be here,” Zenos said, eyes flickering over Asahi and Maxima, then locking back on to you.

An explanation came to mind – hadn’t Zenos said that he would be fetching you for meals, a couple days ago? – but you quickly dismissed it. The idea had seemed strange at the time anyways. Then again, you weren’t entirely sure why he had come up with it.

“And here I am, just as you imagined,” You responded as you turned over to him.

Lips quirking before settling into their normal bored line, Zenos gestured for you to follow him.

“Fetching me for meals, are you?” You asked, falling easily into step at his side.

Asahi emerged from the room to follow after you, but you quickly waved him off, ignoring his frustrated expression at the gesture. The last thing you wanted was to have him annoying you while you were with Zenos. If Zenos didn’t kill him – which he might – then you’d have a hard time keeping Fray from doing something drastic.

_Ah, yes. Wouldn’t that be just perfect, if I were to take the reins and fix the mess you’d made by not listening to me? Then you’d reel me back in, relieved that you never had to listen to me, never had to accept me. This problem is of your own making; deal with it yourself. I will help you if it comes to Estinien, but for the rest, do it yourself._

It took all your willpower not to wince at Fray’s lecture. Fray had always been on your side, quick to come up with a solution, eager to help. It was only natural your darkside would grow tired of such an attitude. You’d grown tired of having that attitude yourself, after all.

Still, you’d already reached your compromise. When you needed someone, Fray would be there. Myste would be there. Everything else was just details. You would work this out somehow. _Still the tireless optimist, I see._

Fray, you knew, had always loved that about you. Always astounded you could keep that up through everything.

“After the incident with Aulus I decided you might appreciate having your meals delivered to you. Particularly,” the smirk rising on his face filled you with an irrational desire to attack Zenos then and there, “given that you care so much for the lives of my subordinates. Given the hunt we have for a traitor aboard, I’d expected you would prefer to avoid any potential issues with the soldiers.”

The hunt. For the traitor. For Lucia. It may have even been Estinien who attacked Aulus that night; you hadn’t gotten the chance to ask him about it. You had to control your expression, you couldn’t show Zenos any sign of what you knew. For once your neutral expression was to your advantage.

Whatever Zenos would do to Estinien and Lucia if he found out – you _could not allow_ him to find out.

“Thank you for your consideration,” You remarked dryly. “What have you told your men, though? About me?”

“Most know you are the Eikon Slayer, and you are here as my guest. Anything else would be a rumor, or information they should not know.”

You blinked. That was considerably more succinct than you would have expected, but then again, it’s not like Zenos would have bothered to explain much to the people beneath him.

Keeping your tone even, you responded, “I suppose that is reasonable. I don’t imagine I’ll be around your Legion for very long.”

“How interesting. Tell me, then, does it matter at all to you if you do not see that Populares man or your Doman boy again?” His mocking tone made it clear how little he thought of the company he found you in.

The reference to Asahi as _your_ Doman boy made you want to snap at him. Asahi, _yours._ As though a person was something that could be possessed – as though you’d _want_ one even if that were the case.

Did he even remember their names? _He remembers ours,_ Fray said softly.

Of course he didn’t know the names of people like Maxima and Asahi. You were the Eikon Slayer, the Warrior of Light, and you’d been the only person who could stand up to him. Of course he would remember your name.

“Shame on me,” You said with a tinge of bitterness, “to think it would be that easy. I suppose I shouldn’t have expected you not to intervene.”

Shame on you indeed. It could never be easy. _Betrayal,_ Estinien’s voice echoed in your head. _Betrayal. Abandoned us._ Nothing was ever easy for you, there were obstacles wherever you went. You’d enjoyed it, once. Now it just added to mountains of expectations you carried wherever you went.

“Playing politics, are we?” Zenos drawled, gazing down at you in clear disdain.

Back before you’d laid siege to the city, Lucia had told you that he didn’t care for it at all. Seems she was well informed.

“You left Ala Mhigo in return for my coming with you,” You said, meeting his gaze evenly. “Is it so strange I don’t want that to be wasted? If Garlemald returns to Ala Mhigo when I am gone, they have no chance of winning.”

You shouldn’t have said it, but Zenos probably already knew. No. No, you just shouldn’t have said it, at any point, anyone could be listening in on this conversation.

Suddenly the grey hallways of the metal ship seemed that much darker, the lighting just a bit dim, the corridor a touch narrower. Your footsteps and his echoed throughout the hall, cold and hard.

“Is that what you tell yourself?”

His words stoke a fierce, burning rage in your chest – as though you had the luxury of lying to yourself. Who did he think you were?

“Still,” His casual manner made it even harder to control your expression, “If you are so determined to shelter those pitiful creatures, far be it from me to deny you."

“Those pitiful creatures can’t help what they are.” You said. Fray didn’t have to say anything for you to feel the frustration festering within your darkside.

Zenos rolled one shoulder in a lazy shrug, “How can they? You have never given them the opportunity to fight for themselves, to struggle for their lives as you have.”

“Because people will _die.”_ You couldn’t entirely keep the sharpness out of your voice, but Zenos’s expression of disinterest does not change.

“The world is as merciless as it is meaningless. Whatever their cause, however just their actions, if your friends are not strong enough to fight for themselves, they will die. Do what you wish to help them while you dwell in Garlemald, but no amount of effort on your part will compensate for their own weakness.”

His voice was indifferent and bored, as though he was telling you about the weather instead of debating the philosophy of your live saving tendencies.

“Is fighting _all_ you ever think about?” As soon as you asked the question you realized its pointlessness.

Zenos’s dark chuckle was enough of an answer on its own, but he still spoke up, “I am not so short-sighted as you seem to imagine – a good hunter is always patient.”

His dismissiveness only sparks more of your anger. It was all a game with him, wasn’t it? It might not be all he thought about, but a fight was all he _wanted._ He had nothing past that to live for, nothing besides his strength to prove his worth, and he wanted to tell _you_ about what was pointless? However strong he may be, someone who had only ever lived for battle didn’t have any right to deny the happiness to be found outside it.

He exchanged words like he exchanged blows. Merciless and filled with intent, determined to get his point across and make his will reality. But you weren’t going to just let Zenos have everything he desired. Nothing worth having would come without a fight, after all. And you were probably the only person in the world who _could_ put up a fight.

In fact…

You had an _idea. Ha! That might actually work. I don’t approve of your purpose – but at least it will be fun. Go on,_ Fray urged, stirring the excitement that had built in your chest. _Do it._

“What if I beat you?” You said lowly.

Zenos stopped. You’d stopped as well. The air would have felt tense, if you hadn’t felt anticipation pooling in your stomach, the likes of which you remembered from your times fighting primals. Before doing that had became routine.

He turned to face you, smiling, as you’d expected.

“ _Beat_ me?” The way Zenos said the word made you want to fight him then and there, make him know better than to say it as though it was something you couldn’t do, as though it wasn’t even possible. Make Zenos understand there was _nothing_ you couldn’t do.

“You say that strength is what determines who lives and who dies. If I beat you,” You kept your gaze directly into Zenos’s eyes, “That means I’m stronger. So I should get my way, yes?”

So he should do what you tell him to already, stop circling around you like he thought you were some kind of wounded prey he needed to treat with care until you recovered. He should stop getting in your way, criticizing everything you’d worked for, your entire identity as the Warrior of Light.

With Estinien and his secret to keep you couldn’t stand to deal with his tireless arguments about the worthlessness your heroism. Him and Fray and your tired soul together – your pride could only protect your conscience so much.

You could take him down a notch, make him go along with whatever plan you came up with to help the other nations. Zenos could do with a good old-fashioned humbling, and you wouldn’t deny the idea of him doing whatever you wanted –

Laughter interrupted your thoughts, loud and full-bodied and filled with an ecstatic joy.

“Get your way, you say?” Zenos stepped towards you, once, and then one more time. “And what if I am stronger of us two? If the greatest reach of your power is beneath me still?”

Beneath him? Not on your life. Who did Zenos think he was talking to?

If you took a single step forward you would be touching him. If you moved back in the slightest, it would be weakness. You stayed exactly where you were, never looking away, never retreating.

“I don’t care, because I won’t lose.” You said to his face without missing a beat.

Zenos reached out to you, cupping your face in his hand as he had once before. Stroking the curve of your jaw with his thumb. Intimately, as though you weren’t placing bets based on which of you could brutalize the other better. His eyes are filled with an intensity you’d only seen from him on the battlefield.

“Such confidence!” Thrills ran through his voice and your spine in equal measure, “Such terrible might you must possess, to speak to me so. In the event of my victory, then, you shall do whatever **I** tell you to.”

His teasing didn’t amuse you. It wasn’t meant to.

These words were made to snap at your heels, spur you on, ready you for the hunt. Zenos was taunting you, you knew. And he knew that as well. The metal of his gauntlets was cold against your face, colder still as he pressed down, holding your jaw tightly and easily in a single hand.

“Not a chance.” Was all you said, meeting blue eyes in a gaze filled with determination.

You saw a shudder run through him then, his eyes still fixed on yours, burning with an intensity not unlike your own. You felt it, too, his fingertips straining against the skin of your face.

The metal on his gloves was warm when he let go.

Silently you continue on your way. Zenos seemed content to let the tension build in the air, growing with each one of your echoing steps.

 

When you got to your room Zenos brushed past you, brusquely, without saying anything. His only parting gesture is a glance back so you could see his smile – knowing, predatory, and impossibly unnerving.

He couldn’t have found out. He couldn’t know about Estinien. If Zenos knew, he wouldn’t act that way, he would have said _something._ Agreeing to your bet had cemented that in your mind; you’d gone _one_ day at least without anyone discovering any Eorzean stowaways.

Now all you had to do was keep it that way from every day in the foreseeable future. Somehow the weight on your shoulders felt no heavier for it. You’d grown numb to it, you supposed.

You entered your room, locking the door behind you and stretching as you walked in a futile attempt to relax yourself.

Sitting on the sofa, you consider the day’s events.

Today had been…

Well, it could have gone worse.

Maxima had been a surprisingly pleasant meeting, although Asahi had managed to sour it for some part, you knew the boy more or less meant well. _Keep telling yourself that._

At least for now your outlook on Garlean politics was quite good – provided you could keep Zenos in line.

 _Ha! Keep him in line! That stunt of yours back there almost makes up with your idiocy with the boy. We’ll keep him in line, indeed._ Fray’s satisfaction surges through you, heady and eager; the rush of power you normally associated with calling on your darkside in battle, _Yes, that’ll be a fight worth our efforts. Maybe there’s hope for you after all._

Notably, Fray had declined to mention that the whole thing had been _your_ idea. _Even when I praise you, you find fault with it! We are the same person, you know. I’m just another part of you._

Yes, Fray, you knew. You’d heard all this before. _You claim to hear but you never listen._

That went both ways. Fray had never respected your desire to save people, your will to be a hero. It was true that your darkside had contained much of your feelings of resentment towards the people who were ungrateful to you, but there were many people who did care. People who didn’t deserve to die. Those you could yet save.

 _That’s not true,_ Fray’s voice was soft, for once. _I am a dark knight, after all. Of course I care about saving people. I just… We can’t save everyone._

The gentleness in your darkside’s tone is unbearable. Who had ever said the darkness was cold? That it could not be tender and caring, and so very compassionate.

_You know it’s true. There are limits to everything. There are limits even the Warrior of Light cannot surpass. We can’t do everything, we can’t save the whole world. Not forever._

No. Fray was wrong. You’d do it, you could do anything. You absolutely wouldn’t stand to be told something was impossible. Even if it was, you’d find a way to do it anyways. That was how you felt, before the mantle of hero had become so heavy, that was what it had been like. There was always a way, there had been a way back then when all hope had seemed lost.

If it meant going beyond all current understanding of the world, destroying all barriers between yourself and your goal, if it meant transcending all mortal limitations, you would do it. If that’s what had to happen. You’d do whatever it took, you’d do _anything._ Sacrifice anything. Fray should know best of all – the greatest power of all came from the Abyss.

And to dwell within the Abyss, to know it as well as you and Fray did, it was a blessing and a curse.

There was a pause.

 _Then I will protect you,_ the solemn vow came quietly and unexpectedly. _Whatever comes of this ridiculously strong will of yours, whatever happens to you… I’ll be with you. Someone has to protect you._

You and Fray were the same person, which made it a sad promise. In the end, the only person who could save you was yourself. That’s what you got for being the Warrior of Light, for being the hero who solved everyone’s problems.

Then again, would you really be willing to accept help from anyone else? You couldn’t think of a single person.

Even Haurchefant you would have denied. Especially considering what it had gotten him.

As it had always been, you were alone.

It was all you could do not to jump in shock when you hear a knock at your door. Dinner, probably.

When you opened the door, you saw Asahi – smiling, but not as brightly as before, which was better in your book. How he could expect to fool you with something so obviously just for appearances was beyond you.

“Eikon Slayer,” His tone was tightly controlled, piquing your interest, “I’ve brought you your meal for tonight – may I come in?”

For a moment you considered turning him away. What _would_ he do in response to that? Fray would be terribly arrogant about it, no doubt. But if Zenos heard of it, he may see fit to kill him. The Prince had made it terribly clear how little he valued Asahi’s life, and though he had backed off at your request before, you weren’t sure if he would again.

Killing the boy just to get to you, unnerve you before you fought. It was a tactic you’d expect from the man who crushed the Doman Rebellion unarmed, putting forth a challenge to all comers. Killing them all. One by one. _He made us watch,_ the voice of the Doman Resistance fighter echoed in your head. _He made us watch._

It was easy to forget how cruel a person Zenos could be, when you had the power to protect yourself from him. Even cruelty was a tool to him, one he wielded with all the merciless violence he’d shown in battle. He’d brought it to bear against the Domans to make them…

 _To make them hate him,_ Fray supplied, _because he wanted to know if they would become stronger for that hate. Because he wanted someone stronger._

Because he knew it would not work on you he did not bother with it. He had merely let you go, let you live, and you’d became more and more powerful on your own. As you always had.

“Eikon Slayer?”

You sighed and opened the door completely, moving back to allow him in.

He set the tray by your bedside carefully, glancing over to you as he did. When you didn’t say anything, he spoke up.

“With the greatest of respect and gratitude to your actions,” Asahi began, “you must absolutely not address Lord Zenos so, ever again. It will put you in serious danger depending on who hears it, to say the least of it being profoundly insolent.”

So he had the ability to talk back to you after all. _We haven’t even said anything yet,_ Fray reminded you.

He’d struck you as a serious stickler for the rules, since he’d put such dedication into his assignment, but it was surprising to see him care so much about Zenos. Then again, perhaps it was just very serious to call the Crown Prince by his first name.

 _Maxima hadn’t acted like it was that terrible._ He might have just been being polite… but then again, Asahi was the definition of politeness, and here he was demanding you call Zenos by some title.

Honestly. Had Asahi ever _met_ Zenos? As though he would care about something so trivial.

 _Of course it would matter to him,_ Fray whispered, _Of course Zenos would care. If Asahi or Fordola, or even Aulus dared to just call him ‘Zenos’, he would take their lives as payment for the insult._

That… may actually be the case. It could be that Asahi was honestly just trying to look after you. It was still annoying; even more since Asahi apparently had not realized that Zenos wouldn’t, couldn’t just murder you like he would anyone else.

“Why don’t you leave that problem to me and him, to sort out between ourselves?” You said, trying a more diplomatic approach.

Technically speaking, you were Asahi’s superior now. Zenos had made that quite clear when assigning the boy to you the other day. He should listen to you on this, right?

“I believe you overestimate my Lord’s tolerance for such casual behavior,” Asahi said, his voice strained, “Lord Zenos is not one to be reckoned with. You would do well to remember that.”

What was this boy thinking? Honestly, you wanted nothing more to see what was going on in his head to make him say that.

“I know full well, since I was there when he nearly killed you,” You said, taking a step forwards, gazing down at the boy imposingly. “Don’t mistake me, I appreciate your help. But this advice is unneeded.”  

Asahi met your gaze with a surprising fervor, “As long as you know to treat Lord Zenos with the appropriate respect, I am glad to have been of assistance. Have a pleasant night, Eikon Slayer.”

With that, and a salute, he takes his leave.

…

_I don’t like him._

Really? You were glad Fray had spoken up and told you. There was no way at all you would have figured out that Fray didn’t like Asahi otherwise.

 _Sarcastic bastard,_ Fray said, but with fondness.

The real matter at hand, you thought as you glanced over to the tray, was whether or not you planned to eat what he’d brought. He wouldn’t poison you, right?

 _Esuna might actually work for that,_ Fray mused. It wasn’t too far-fetched a notion. Against something faster acting, however, you knew from experience how hard it could be to respond in time.

In any case, you’d eaten what Asahi brought earlier that day. If that hadn’t been tainted, this wouldn’t be either. He couldn’t have been _that_ offended by you ‘being profoundly insolent’ to Zenos, could he have? He had to know that Zenos thought nothing of killing Asahi, and less still of assigning the boy to be your… whatever he was, now.

You leave the drink untouched once more – it did seem to be ordinary water, though – but eat the food. It was rather tasty, much like the breakfast you’d had that morning. If Asahi was planning to kill you, at least it was in good taste. Clearing off the plate and setting it back on the table, you reclined on the bed a bit before readying yourself for the night.

Whatever challenges were ahead of you… Fray would face them with you. However hard Zenos fought, you were sure you had it in yourself to prevail. Gone though you may be from Eorzea, you could still do something to protect the people you’d left behind – a final gift of parting. It would be easier for them to take on the threat of the Primals without Garlemald fighting them.

Perhaps the Garleans could even be convinced to help, if you tried hard enough. Getting Zenos to listen to you would be the major determining factor, but after that the Emperor had struck you as a reasonable man.

There was a chance you could come here and stop bloodshed, rather than cause more of it. Garlemald had now withdrawn from both continents; no more Eorzeans needed to die by Garlean hands.

With all this in mind, you could surely find a way to persuade Estinien and Lucia to return. The sooner the better. You had no wish to subject yourself to the intent examination of those blue, blue eyes. Fighting Zenos was hard; he poured his heart and soul into the battle. Fighting him while keeping a secret would be harder.

A sigh escaped you as you stood to pace the room. Hours and hours on end you walked, worrying yourself in vain, hoping to find some way to prepare yourself to whatever battle would come.

You had to protect Estinien and Lucia. You were the only one who could. Should Zenos discover their presence on the ship, they were as good as dead.

You also needed to defeat Zenos in whatever battle came to be. That should allow you to demand his support for Maxima’s political faction and anti-war efforts. By then, at least, you could convince the two to leave. Estinien may doubt you, but he would not doubt Lucia, and she surely knew enough about Garlean government to attest to your efforts.

The struggle would be in the time leading up to it. You were confident enough you could match Zenos on the battlefield, but he was no fool. He knew how powerful you were, and you were sure Zenos had some trick that would give him an advantage in your next real fight. Just like he’d pulled out that damnable sword the second time you fought.

You sighed once more, stilling in your pacing and holding your face in your hands. What had you gotten yourself into?

It was hours longer until you were finally able to turn in to bed.

 

Zenos doesn’t know, you thought to yourself as you fell asleep.

 _Zenos doesn’t know,_ Fray agreed, relieving you just enough for you to relax into the bed, tired and mentally drained.

Zenos did not know.

From the conversation you’d had with him he had no cause to believe you were hiding anything. If anything, Zenos would be suspicious of your new alignment with Maxima and his Populares, which was a far easier problem to deal with. And then, the battle Zenos had agreed to fight you in – whatever that was, you’d deal with it when it came.

Estinien, and everyone else, was safe for tonight. You didn’t have to protect anyone. For tonight. Everything was fine, you could fall asleep already.

The pillow was soft against your face, so soft. The sheets were smooth and warm, and the plush blanket laid heavy on you like a protective shroud.

There was nothing to worry about; Zenos did not know. Everyone was safe.

You nestled into the mattress, curling up beneath the sheets, closing your eyes and sighing.

All was well. No one was in danger.

For tonight.

 

Outside your door, a figure watched the hallway through which the Doman Ambassador had passed. His eyes are cold, indifferent. Calculating.

He did not think that this would be enough.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH its finished finallyyyyy
> 
> help
> 
> this chapter is 7500 words long and it wasn't originally supposed to exist
> 
> That's why it took so long, lol. The next chapter (and a couple of the ones following it) I had written weeks ago, but the thing is that after I wrote the last chapter (which itself did not originally exist until I got to that point in the story) I felt like I needed something in between. Not to mention, the chapter BEFORE last chapter is where you were supposed to meet Maxima, sooo...
> 
> Speaking of Maxima, you’ll notice I omit his title and rank… that’s because he doesn’t fukin have one
> 
> Also, because we’re headed to Garlemald, I frankly have to make some choices about what Garleans know about non-Garleans and specifically, the Warrior of Light and other stuff. Congratulations, we're stuck in the realm of potentially non-canon compliant material. This fic is officially canon-compliant up until patch 4.4 and absolutely no further. We're almost definitely going to Garlemald next expansion, so it's more or less inevitable that some stuff about the characters and country will be outdated eventually. But not today!
> 
> It only occurred to me after this chapter got to like, 6000 words, that maybe I should split it into multiple chapters just to post it earlier, but then I was like, naaaah. It's better read all at once, and around 3000 words of it was written in the past couple days anyways.
> 
> On the bright side, the draft of this story has grown to be over 60,000 words long, which raises to me serious concerns about who I am and what I'm doing with my life. More importantly... Ship is incoming! Well, okay, there's not really any romance yet, that's still gonna take a while, but some very Original Flavor Zenos/WoL subtexty stuff is planned for next chapter, which was supposed to be published several chapters ago but like. What is happening to me. 
> 
> I feel like a lot of the sentiments and feelings the WoL and Zenos have are being repeated over and over, which bothers me, but I don't have a better way of expressing them. I don't exactly proofread much before I post (some embarrassing errors get past me every once in a while) and because I usually focus on one chapter at a time while outlining and slightly adding to the others, I sometimes don't have the best idea of what's happened earlier in the story. I actually really hate proofreading and editing stuff, so if any of ya'll would be interested in that, let me know in the comments :D
> 
> Otherwise, let me know in the comments what you think of all the PLOT going on! I'm so excited that things are finally picking up! And let me know what you think of the WoL's internal monologues and stuff. I know this WoL can't exactly match everyone's, so my real focus is for this WoL not to sound repetitive or completely unimaginable as the person who, you know, became the Warrior of Light. 
> 
> The next chapter should come within the next few days, and I'll try to beat my regular 4-day update schedule to make up for the wait. The next chapter is written already, but I do have to do a lot for the chapter after that, so I'll have to see what I can do. Either way, at least you guys got a super-XL chapter this time. Hope you guys all liked it <3


	11. Could not lose

Asahi, you decided, while not exactly who you wanted to wake you up, was much better than Zenos.

You had _barely_ heard the door open this time. That had to be intentional, had to be him trying to test if he could stalk up on you while you slept. You’d shot up in bed immediately, surveying the room in a heartbeat and glaring at him from your position beneath the sheets.

“Come in.” You told him, staring at him as he loomed footsteps away from your bedside. Unimpressed.

Zenos’s answering laugh only made you sigh. His pleased expression wasn’t exactly surprising, but it was filled with an enthusiastic energy you hadn’t felt even in your more intense moments. Even in the morning? Somehow it made sense; you couldn’t imagine Zenos’s sleeping face. If he ever did sleep.

“Your challenge,” Zenos purred, “I intend to meet today. Since you have only just awoken, I shall have someone fetch you in a while. Do prepare yourself.”

His smile was altogether far too self-satisfied. The urge to wipe it straight off his face, with your bare hands even, welled up inside you. Swallowing the feeling and storing it for a later time, you nodded to him.

_He **would** just _ tell _us when the fight is meant to happen, and not ask._

Then again, the time and terms of the battle weren’t usually set by the challenger. It vaguely made sense that Zenos should have the right to decide that, though if positions had been reversed, he would have done the same.

You sighed in the face of his expectant stare and gave him the verbal response he wanted. “I will, no thanks to you and your rude awakening.”

“Unpleasant in the mornings, are we?” Those blue eyes flickered with excitement, as though he were taunting a wild animal with killing intent. The comparison wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Only to those who see fit to walk in on me while I sleep.” You knew he was trying to get a rise out of you, a reaction. Well, he could have it.

It was at that point that Asahi walked in, carrying a tray of breakfast like he had the other day.

You blinked.

“If there’s anything more you want to say, you can say it when we fight.” You said to Zenos, gesturing towards the door. It would be a lot better for him to leave without speaking to the person who’d just come in.

“Oh, I intend to,” Zenos said, smiling that knowing smile at you, as though he knew something that you did not.

Heel brushing against the carpet as he turned sharply, Zenos spared your intruder a glance. A small one.

Asahi jerked into position, the tray wobbling in his single hand as he held the other up in a salute. Zenos had already moved past him, however, and didn’t even pretend to notice what the boy was doing.

You shouldn’t do it, you mused to yourself as Zenos stopped in front of the door, which opened a heartbeat afterwards. _Do it._

Resisting temptation was not your strong suit, as of late.

“I will see you then, Zenos,” You called after him as the door opened.

Asahi, of course, looked scandalized. Zenos only laughed.

_That almost makes it worth saving the boy’s life. Almost._ It didn’t have to be ‘worth it’ for you to do it, you knew. Fray knew. Asahi’s gratitude had clearly lost most of its fervor, but you would protect him nonetheless.

_Only from Zenos,_ Fray added.

Yes, that was a reasonable enough stipulation. It wasn’t like you were going to follow Asahi around and make sure he stayed out of trouble. But the idea of allowing Zenos to murder indiscriminately didn’t sit well with you, either. You were the only person in the world who would be able to stop him. So why wouldn’t you?

_Why not, indeed. As goals go, spiting Zenos is a worthy one,_ Fray told you, _but never mind that. We still have to deal with the brat._

The Doman boy gives you a _look_ as he lays your breakfast at the side of your table. “Just because Lord Zenos does not mind your…”

You could tell he was about to say ‘disrespect’ or something, but he couldn’t quite formulate the sentence. You couldn’t blame him. It was hard to imagine Zenos not minding it when someone insulted him. He might be terribly bored, most of the time, but neither did Zenos care to suffer the unworthy. The truth of the matter was that Zenos did not consider your use of his name to be an insult, but of course Asahi seemed to have no concept of that, at all.

“If he does not mind, then it is of no concern to you.” You said bluntly.

_What happened to making nice with the boy? For_ politics _sake?_

Fray had agreed to support you, but it unnerved you greatly how much your darkside sounded like Zenos. The way your inner voice had said ‘politics’, filled with a distain not unlike the kind you’d heard from Zenos, was almost frightening. Fray may have been teasing, but still.

_Hush. If you really want to, you can protect the world we left behind, but my goal right now is to protect **you.** No one else will. _

The thought didn’t cut as deeply as it had before, but it still hurt to hear.

 

 

 

There are places you expect to have a desperate struggle with the Prince of Garlemald over the potential fate of Eorzea and the world at large.

The small room the servant led you to, with a table in the middle and a couple chairs taking up most of the space in the area, was not it.

Sitting at the chair opposite your side of the room was Zenos, somehow managing to lounge back even on the smaller metal chairs that were in here. He gestured for you to take a seat across from him and you sigh.

“What is this,” You said dryly, sliding into the chair without taking your eyes off him, “An interrogation?”

“Merely a conversation between equals. Did I not tell you there was more I intended to say? Besides,” Again, that _damned_ knowing smile, “this is a matter of special… _interest_ to you. And our battle.”

No battle would be taking place here, that much was obvious. But did that also mean Zenos didn’t intend to fight today? _Unlikely._

You nearly jumped in your seat at the sound of a fist on a chest behind you; your escort preforming the Garlean salute. Zenos made no motion to dismiss or even acknowledge the servant, his gaze fixed solely on you.

The servant – no, it was a soldier’s uniform he was wearing – spared you a cold, vicious glare before leaving. The doors locked behind him.

“Who was that?” You heard yourself saying as you turned back to Zenos.

“One of the regiment from Doma,” Zenos said, his eyes narrowing as his tone sharpened. “Your attendant was the leader of that endeavor. They were attempting negotiations with the current leadership in Doma that you set up before leaving. With our withdrawal from Ala Mhigo, they have returned to rendezvous with the Twelfth and return to Garlemald.”

Your brows drew together in consternation. Zenos had _said_ the ‘loss of Doma’ wouldn’t be held against you – how odd, to think of it in those terms – but perhaps that wasn’t entirely true.

_Or perhaps his mind has changed now that Garlemald and the Emperor grow near,_ Fray whispered to you. _Perhaps he wants to fight you and get it over with. Whether or not he wants to kill you, he surely has the power to force us to kill him. We’re not so inhumanly powerful that we can fight Zenos without lethal intent when he is putting his all into the fight._

No… Zenos was not so fickle a man, surely. He had said he and you were going to Garlemald, and that was where you would go. He wouldn’t try to kill you before then, would he?

_He calls himself a hunter, and yourself his prey. He went from calling you ‘pathetic’ to calling you his equal in what, a matter of weeks? Months? Most damningly, is there a single thing you suspect Zenos cares for outside of battle?_ You couldn’t think of even one.

But what had that to do with his motives? If anything, it meant Zenos had no reason to betray you; he would not hold the Emperor in higher regard than he would your… rivalry?

_Compelling._ Sometimes you really did regret becoming a Dark Knight. _You would have said this to yourself, you know. Only not so loudly, without using such coherent words. It would have just been a feeling. I **am** you, after all. _

Thanks, Fray. More troublesome was that the Garleans had actually been trying to negotiate with Doma before you fought in Ala Mhigo… you supposed you should have realized that sooner, with what Maxima and Asahi had told you. To say nothing of the fact that Zenos seemed to think Hien was some kind of puppet you’d propped up before coming to fight him.

“The Lord of Doma wasn’t someone I set up as ruler. He was the rightful heir to the title, and he played an instrumental part in the rebellion.” It felt exceptionally strange to be explaining this to _Zenos,_ of all people, but your Doman allies had suffered long and hard for their victory.

Zenos faced your rebuttal with the same bored indifference he faced most other things, “There would have been no rebellion without you, however _rightful_ his claim.”

“There wouldn’t have been a rebellion without him, either, and many others. It wasn’t something I could have done on my own.”

_He made us watch,_ the voice echoed in your head. All on his own had Zenos subdued the rebellion. Killed them all without a weapon. Made them watch. Could you have liberated Doma, undone what he did, all on your own, if you’d really wanted to?

For his part, Zenos was eager to speak of other matters. Returning to, as you called it, his ‘interrogation’, he spoke again, “You slew another Eikon in your time there, before we met the second time, yes?”

“Yes?” Why he wanted to know about it was anyone’s guess. Perhaps he cared for the origins of the sword he carried?

“Why?”

“That’s what I do. Even you Garleans have already taken to calling me the Eikon Slayer.” You didn’t see his point. Was he getting to his point, yet?

His grin grew large, terrifyingly so, “Did you ever stop to think there was something _else_ you could do?”

“Like binding them away? As far as I know, that’s never worked in the long term.” You eyed Zenos warily.

He wasn’t one for politics, so why all this dancing around the subject? He was clearly trying to lead you up to some realization, but how were the Eikons connected to the fight you were going to have? Perhaps it was some political stunt, considering your goal was to get Zenos to play politics and you were known as the Eikon Slayer. But again, Zenos was not one for politics. It would have to be about the fight itself.

“Come now,” Zenos said, leaning in, locks of long hair hanging down towards the table, “You encountered Fordola and were able to subdue her, were you not? You must know of my research into your gift. The Echo.”

_Did Aulus set him up to this?_ Fray demanded, tensing just as you did. No, no one could ‘set Zenos up’ to do anything; this was his idea. Zenos had called it “my research”, after all, and not attributed it to anyone else. It didn’t seem likely that Zenos wanted to extract information about the Echo from you…

You sighed and met his eyes.

They are red.

Fleetingly you realize, as the world around you darkens in a familiar way, that you’d seen those eyes on Fordola.

 

It was working. He could see it – your past. These visions could have come from none other, for Zenos knew this wasn’t his own past.

_“You… you are unharmed?” A dying elezen lies before you, cradled in someone else’s arms. Not yours, never yours –_

“Stop! Stop it, right now!” Your demands are lost in the visions, the ever-changing sensations, in the echo. It is all you can do to fight the image of him, _dying,_ in front of you, _again._

Only by the barest of margins do you keep your mind from wandering to the exact place you needed Zenos to avoid. _What place?!_ Fray barks, in a dismissal you understand is meant to help you, _There is no time to think. Get him away from us, out of our head!_

Zenos does not answer, he keeps watching, and you shout once more, before you get caught up in it yourself, before you had to watch it happen, _again._

Your attention is drawn to _him_ once more, as you try to focus on the task at hand.

_“Forgive me, I could not –”_

No. No, no. You didn’t want to hear this, you didn’t want to hear this. Not again.

“Stop!” You plead, demand. It is futile, you know, as you are drawn back in towards that terrible scene. Like a wild animal, Zenos was dangerous, untamed, he could never be safe to be around. Without any care or mercy or even the faintest ability to hold back. Like an animal. Like a storm.

The visions can’t stop, won’t stop. A storm of blood appears before you, all you’d shed, all you’d lost. Haurchefant’s blood, dripping from his chest.

You can _feel_ Zenos watching him die. Smiling. That knowing smile.

 

This was it, the power of the echo, Zenos realizes, smiling to himself. Your gaze is fixed on that dying elezen, and he pushes forwards, trying to see more of your memories, more of your feelings –

The vision flickers out of existence. For a brief moment, a giant blue crystal floats before him, seemingly in a vast sea of stars and lights. You’re fighting this, it seems. But Zenos presses on – the Resonance was powerful, and you had not studied the Echo as he had. Surely he could overcome this strange image and see your memories once more.

_He begs forgiveness of you,_ the pitiful dying fool _, says he couldn’t bear to see you harmed-_

Zenos feels your rage as he makes the judgement on this person, but are powerless to stop him

_“A smile better suits a hero,” and he smiles himself, blood spilt on his chest and from his mouth._

_pain_

It fills his senses, a blade cutting straight through his armor, through his skin and bone and sinking into his heart. Zenos had to stop himself from clutching at the front of his chest piece.

_deep pain, **stabbing** pain_

_as though you were the one whose chest was pierced_

_You hold his hand and smile but he still dies, why did he die, you did everything right he didn’t deserve to die_

Your present face, a wince, and Zenos knew this was something. Something important to you, something you guarded. He could feel you pushing him away, writhing under his inspection like a snake caught by a lion, slipping away, contorting out of his jaws. But you won’t escape, he wouldn’t let go, and he rips more from you as soon as he gathers together the intention for it.

_“Life for death. I will have Ser Zephirin's heart for what he did to Haurchefant.”_

The words echo in his mind, and Zenos knows he had heard them in your voice. So determined, so hateful! All the wrath he had seen from the people of Doma, but with true might behind it! The sound of your voice is the only music he would ever care to hear.

Your voice, but no sights or feelings to accompany it, only the words, the sound of delectable fury pooling in your tone. He wants more of this, he wants to see more of your rage, more of this deep, dark, unyielding fury he had never seen on you before.

Ripping through your memories as you reach across the table, jumping towards him to stop, you were losing, you were _losing,_ and you **could not lose**

_“Tis a betrayal. A betrayal, to all those in Ishgard who had believed in you, to-”_

Suddenly the world is tinted red.

Darkness eats at the edges of his vision, before all is gone.

 

 

When he can see again, he cannot.

Everything is black. It is everywhere. An all-encompassing darkness – no, a void. Nothing at all, no light anywhere at all, just an infinite expanse of empty blackness.

And then he sees you. Alone in this empty expanse. Whatever light source by which he can see you is unknowable, invisible; everywhere Zenos looks he sees naught but that solid, unyielding black.

Dark red smoke emits from your form, like the fumes of a dark flame burning deep within you. Your armor is much like the armor you wore in life, but it seems to give off the same reddened plumes of energy.

He says your name and you look up. That’s when Zenos realizes that it isn’t you.

But it is. It has to be. Your face, your eyes, your vicious, wicked smile –

He blinks. Zenos has never recalled you smiling like that.

**Well, well, what do we have here? Trying to get inside my head, are you?**

Your voice had never sounded like that. Had never been so barbed, so lethal. Had never surrounded him in this vast emptiness, coming at him from everywhere.

But Zenos knows it’s you looking at him. Who else could you be? Who else could overcome his Resonance?

“This… the power that thwarted the will of those false gods, placing you far beyond their influence. The Echo?” Even as Zenos asked he knew it was not so.

You were the Warrior of Light. Your power was supposed to be of the light, the Echo was said to be a gift from Hydaelyn. No such ‘savior’ would command an infinite blackness such as this within themselves. But then, Zenos had never understood such a worthless idea as a hero.

The smile, though, he knows well. Savage, cruel, mocking.

He’d sported that same smile himself. There was not a man alive who could look at it without trembling in terror, dreading his own death. Lightning runs through his chest, his heart stuttering when your eyes meet his and that twisted smile grows.

**The Echo? No. Why would I need to use that against you? There is nothing you can do to hurt me.**

Yes. Yes! Zenos gives a great, ecstatic laugh, drawing his weapon without a care in the world. He can feel his eyes burning in that bright red pattern, bright red tendrils of power swirling around him.

“So confident, so eager! Let us see then, if my blood is to your taste, or yours to mine, warrior in the darkness!”

This is what he had been looking for. This is the Warrior he had wanted to save, to do battle with.

With that twisted smile and an even more distorted laugh, you fell upon him. Oh, how ironic it would be, that Zenos of all people would recognize you like this. That he would be so completely unperturbed by the darkness that housed a part of yourself.

You fight and fight, and soon Zenos realizes the true edge to your blade, the strength behind your blows – stronger, more powerful than he’d seen before.

But you are also weaker. His blade rends more easily through your flesh than ever before, black blood spilling out from wounds all over your body. He doesn’t have the time to wonder or notice what it is; your assault is unrelenting, your blade falling down upon him with a vicious force he’d rarely seen from you.

Still, it is not enough. He is well armored, and you make so little effort to defend yourself from his onslaught that he is almost disappointed.

With you fighting even more carelessly than you ever had been, it is not long before he is able to deal the final, brutal blow.

He cleaves open your chest, blade digging through bone and muscle and finally your heart. Zenos rips the blade from your flesh, and his grip almost trembles for a moment, his gaze on you hard and unrelenting. The thought itches at the back of his mind, impossible to ignore.

_Is it over?_

He cannot look away, his heart is beating in great heaving stutters, his body trembling with excitement, exertion. Zenos cannot believe he has bested you, cannot believe your careless fighting has led to your death, even in an illusion.

And he is right.

You look up to meet his eyes, grinning fully now, chuckling darkly. Not. Dead.

Zenos stares; you are bleeding all over, your wounds far beyond what would kill a mortal man. You look like the walking dead, pale and thin, having lost so much blood. He had carved out so much of your flesh it is a wonder your body is still in one piece; everywhere he looks he sees gashes, cuts, grievous wounds weeping black blood. Seeping from your being is that red, red mist.

Smiling across at him, you raise high your greatsword for yet another powerful blow. He has no choice but to block, and counter as quickly as he can before you attack once more.

Each time, he thinks you will surely fall apart with just one more strike, he need only strike you once more and you would unravel. Each time he is wrong. That black you are bleeding must have left huge pools beneath you, but surrounded by darkness as the two of you were the blood is indistinguishable from your surroundings.

And he is wearing down, Zenos realizes, your attacks were taking their toll. He was losing strength, and you were not, somehow you were fighting far past the point of death.

He was going to lose.

He was going to lose _to you._

Excitement and adrenaline surges through him, along with an altogether unfamiliar sensation he cannot name. He did not want to lose here. Your dearest secrets, your greatest pains and passions had been so close, within his grasp, ripe for the picking. He could have it all, if he could just win here.

He jumps back, a retreat not in his nature, but it was necessary for his next attack. Focusing himself entirely, Zenos collects within himself – within his blade – the power deep within. Power he had never used against any other besides you. Power he had never _had_ to use.

You approach slowly, leisurely, as though you have all the time in the world.

Red energy, far brighter than the power swirling around you, vivid and violent, swirls around him. Colors his entire being. It converges on his sword and sends out shockwaves, staggering in their intensity.

Still you approach.

Zenos does not have time to prepare himself for the ultimate strike. He raises his weapon, marred with black, for a mighty blow –

And releases his gathered strength all in that one attack, crashing his blade upon you like a mountain of metal, honed to a fine edge. He bares his teeth in an ecstatic grin as he bears down on you. His blade is the embodiment of killing intent. Perfectly positioned to cut you in half. Devastating in its intensity. Unstoppable.

The moment it touches you Zenos realizes.

It is not enough.

Your expression remains unchanged as the strike hits you. It digs into your shoulder. Cuts straight through bone and flesh alike. And stops. The force behind the blade spent. The measure of his might delivered.

And so you lash out in turn, delivering your own blow with the force of your whole body, forcing him back. Stumbling back.

The wound on his chest is beautiful, glorious, the pain that shoots through him is _euphoric._ He knows no name for the way these sensations make him feel. He had never felt like this before.

Driving him forwards to block your greatsword yet again is the desire to see more of you, more of your memories.

He had to win. He could _not_ lose here. He would tear away from you the knowledge you were so desperate to protect. Discover why you held so precious the image of that pathetic dying creature.

Your weapon breaks through his block, falling down once more to cut through his chest again.

He had to win. And he could not.

Staggering away yet again from your onslaught, keeping you at bay with a swift swipe that you did not bother to evade, but could not walk through.

He had to win. But now his opponent was you, the one person he could not overwhelm with ease.

And he was losing.

_Go,_ Zenos’s eyes widen when he heard the voice, deep, dark, and filled with an overwhelming sense of command. Your mouth hadn’t moved, it had not been you who spoke. Rather, the voice seemed to come from just behind him, just over his shoulder.

His reaction is instantaneous, without a hint of hesitation. He gave a mighty slash with his considerable weight behind it, knowing you would take the brunt of it and make no effort to avoid it. As though this battle was but a game to you. As though you were only playing.

For his trouble he receives a blow to the side, but for the moment, he’d knocked you away.

Zenos spins around, examining the darkness with eyes like ice. There is nothing behind him, no answers; only that unending void. He stares a moment, until your voice pulls his attention back.

**You hear it, do you? The voice.**

You said it knowing it was unlikely. Impossible, even. But his behavior couldn’t mean anything else. Zenos yae Galvus, hearing the call of the abyss? Zenos, having something within him that could keep him going in the darkest abyss, the strength to master the darkness and dwell within the void without being overcome?

There was no way, you decided. The mental fortitude to endure this place, maybe he had that. But a man like Zenos was more likely to be consumed by this writhing, chaotic power than to master it; after all, he lived for battle.

For his part, Zenos’s gaze flickers around, even when he knows you are both surrounded by black, and nothing else. Still, he will give this voice no opportunity to escape his sight, not if it appears for only a single heartbeat.

_Leave this place. You cannot stay here._ Zenos slashes into the nothingness, as though by force of will alone he could sever the source of the voice that dared to order him around.

It did nothing, of course. His eyes narrow. To command him to leave – it belied and impossible arrogance, one he wished dearly to put to the test. Surely this empty world inside your mind had no master.

_You do not have the strength to master the abyss; the Warrior of Light does. This cannot ever be your home; this empty place has nothing for you._

Absurd. If this place had nothing for him, that was a judgement for him to make, not some bodiless voice that dwelt within such a pathetic plane of existence.

And any strength you had, Zenos could claim for himself. He had already found the source of the Echo, recreated it for himself, and by the looks of it he had been strong enough to overpower your own Echo and examine your memories against your will. Was he not already inside your mind, as you had been inside the minds of others?

“What is this? What farce have you conjured in this wretched plane?” He turned back at you and demands, blade dripping black with your blood.

**The voice that calls out from the Abyss? It is your own voice. You should obey it.** You shrug at him, lifting a greatsword stained red. **Oft did the Warrior of Light regret not listening to me. We’ve come to a compromise, finally.**

“Then what are you, truly – an apparition, a trick, one of the Warrior’s many skills put to good use?” He had been bested by an illusion. The idea left a sour taste in his mouth. An illusion.

This entire world must be some manifestation of the Echo, one that had been absent from any of the reports. You had turned the tide against him and now the power he’d meant to use against you had left him helpless before this undying warrior who took your form. Powerless to force you to stop, to wrench himself out of this place he had unwittingly brought himself into.

Was the Resonance truly so weak, just a flickering reverberation before the true power of the Echo?

**Hardly. I am merely another side of the Warrior you know, I’m just the side that lives here. And as you can see, the Abyss is not a popular place of residence.** You gestured to the empty blackness around you.  

**I would have welcomed you, but I figured just a spar would be more to your taste. Fitting for the setting, too. Nothing survives in this place for long, and rarely do living things ever come here, anyways. Nonetheless, it’s nice to have some company for once.**

You had attacked him as a _greeting?_ His annoyance disappears at once, any doubts about the identity of the you that stood before him vanished as though they had never existed. The you before him was no illusion. No other would say those words, nor prove themselves so powerful, so much his equal.

Zenos’s chest fills with fire, ecstatic flames and the desperate urge to fight you even more. He stays where he is – excited though he may be, it was worthless to spend his strength fighting this version of you who. Your nearly dead form before him was proof enough there was nothing he could do to you here, physically.

He had come here not to fight a battle, but to plan for the war; to learn more about you and your powers.

Understanding this strange, surreal place and who it was that stood before him would make for a satisfactory first step.

“If you are not a trick, as you say, then how have I come to be here?”

**Your attempt at seeing inside of me has brought you here. I am the hidden part of the Warrior of Light – the part that dwells within the darkness.**

Blue eyes glimmer at you, alight with curiosity, with the urge to interrogate you, no doubt – you speak up before he can ask anything else. Now isn’t the time for derailment.

**And as I said, living things cannot survive here. It was a pleasure, really,** You give him a mocking bow, blood gushing from a gash in your chest as you do so, **but it is time for you to leave.**

_The Dark Knight speaks true. Go. This place is not for the likes of you._

Zenos’s face hardens, his blade poised to strike once more at nothing. Finally, he lowers it. If this wretched voice was going to make demands and judgements without showing itself, it should not expect him to listen.

“And where, exactly, is ‘here’? What part of you can stand before me as a dead body walking, and still fight?” Zenos flicks his sword to get rid of the stain on it. He frowns; it didn’t work.

**Here? The Abyss?** You give him a smile, a broken, miserable expression you know he cannot understand. **It is the void, the darkness, the end of all things.**

“For what reason have you come to such a useless place?” The end of all things; he wanted nothing to do with it. His end had not come yet, and neither had yours, and Zenos meant to live with no regards for such a miserable thing as an ending until he had at last played his part to the fullest.

_Fullest? Your life has been nothing but boredom, and you intended to die just once you’ve found your excitement. You have no place calling endings ‘useless’._

It is not his death he seeks, but the thrill of risking his life. But whether others understand that feeling matters not. He will not pay attention to the wretched voice, not while he had you here, speaking to him so freely. He had, after all, used the Resonance to deepen his understanding of this bleeding hunter before him.

**Those who can dwell within this place are granted power unlike any other, and I needed power to fulfill the expectations everyone had of me.**

The bitter tone to your admission seizes Zenos’s attention; immediately, he closes in on it.

“Finally, then, you see the futility of your cause. You do realize those cowards had been leeching your strength for their own, never growing strength for themselves while they had you to depend on.”

**Obviously. I did leave, you know.**

“Then why are you still so broken?”

When your eyes widen in shock Zenos knows you could have never anticipated that question. Perhaps it is that another sees your brokenness, or perhaps it is that he is the one asking; something about it shocks you to your core, he can tell. 

You take a step back, feeling vulnerable; for all times he’d cut you, none went deeper than this.

**I… What did you think? You think leaving would make me a different person?** You gained volume as you went on, talking faster, suddenly feeling indignant at his insinuation. Broken, you? This from a man who did not know the meaning of friendship, or compassion!

“The Warrior of Light would not abandon the people who relied on their hero. But _you_ did.” Zenos demands, those blue eyes burning holes into you.

You laughed at that, a loud, throaty noise that should not be possible for someone whose lungs were filled with blood. **It is not a title, like Legatus, to be given or taken. The Warrior of Light _is_ me, and whatever I would do is what the Warrior of Light would do.**

He steps towards you then, unwilling to let go of a single manner of inquisition. “Did you not say that you were one who dwelt within the darkness? They use you like a weapon, brandish you like a torch against all the darkness and trials they are unwilling to face themselves. Surely you cannot dwell in darkness forever, yourself.”

**I can try. Even if being here is the sacrifice I have to make to gain the power I want, even if I lose a part of myself to save everyone else. I can still succeed, I can still win even against enemies no one can defeat.** You meet those eyes head on, unafraid, with an expression that sends excitement shivering down his spine, **Against enemies like you. I will never give up.**

“And that is _very_ well and good, but you have left them all behind, still. What will Eorzea do when next an Eikon is summoned, and there is no one fit to end its life? When the next great tragedy is on their horizon, and the one they’ve relied upon in every other case is gone?”

He savors your hesitation, your lips tightening and your brows furrowing in consternation. Showing no mercy nor recourse, Zenos presses on, questioning you for as long as you remain that silent warrior.

“There is no reason to cling to this useless charade, this mantle of heroism. You are far past it – above it, just as it is beneath you.”

**Did you forget why I came?**

Zenos stares a moment. He waits, lets you speak.

It does not occur to you that the Crown Prince of Garlemald is hanging on your every word. You see his silence, and give him the answers he desires.

**You agreed to leave without bloodshed if I came with you. It’s true I will no longer be there to defend the people from Primals, but that alone might not spell their doom. They know what is required to perform a summoning, and perhaps with me gone, they will take better measures.**

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Would a hero truly abandon them to that chance? Surely you know you cannot keep true to that title anymore.” The source of your dead, and tired eyes. That useless, _pathetic_ ideal that had kept you from embracing the joy of battle as only a warrior of your caliber could. Zenos will end this farce, here and now.

He does not expect you to laugh again.

**I have gambled with my own, haven’t I? And what is more, do you think I’m not a hero anymore? I do not want anyone dead. I came with you for that very reason, to save lives.**

Save lives? He had seen the look in your eyes at his outstretched hand, your weary, miserable march to his throne as you’d prepared to kill him or be killed. He’d felt how hard you clutched his hand as he led you away from the ‘lives’ you claimed to want to save.

At once it strikes out within him, the burning compulsion to lash out, the urge to fight. To cast off the veil of ideals that clings to you, to render your judgement as broken as your philosophy has made you. No warrior as virtuous as you pretended to be would have fought him the way you had so long ago in Doma, and so recently in that so-called spar.

Like a savage. Like a monster. Like someone who was only truly at home on the battlefield.

“So you left everything behind? Just to save those people? You cannot mean for me to believe you cared nothing for freedom, to be by the side of the one and only person who could face you in battle?” Zenos knew that look in your face as you fought him, the exnihilating in your eyes, the excitement in your blows – it spoke the truth that you would not.

Your smile falls, and you look at him with the same expressionless face you looked at everyone with. In the silence, he can hear his blood drip from your blade and pool beneath you.

**Whatever I must do to save people… the reason I came here was to gain the power to do it. To challenge people like you, who use your strength against people who are too weak to fight back. To stand up for those who are unable to stand up for themselves. If I don’t save them, no one will; I am the only one who can do it.**

More of this farce, more of this empty cause. Such a meaningless gesture, such an utter waste of your power, your efforts. The last people in the world who could possibly be worth saving were those who could not fight for themselves. Even you, the first time you met, had needed to earn his sparing of your life.

“This world has no mercy for the weak,” Zenos says, his tone rising, “Even if you save a man once, his weakness will kill him when you aren’t watching as surely as any of your enemies would.”

**You cannot know that. Leaving them to die in battles they could never win would be the same as killing them myself.** You don’t expect Zenos to understand anything about responsibility, but this was the way that it was. Normal people were truly unable to do the things that you could do – without your efforts, Eorzea would have fallen to ruin long ago.

He takes a step forwards, frowning at your expression, which hasn’t changed, “Even you and I will die someday. To age, to battle, to anything – you have only one life to live, and you would waste it serving others? Why would you not simply seize whatever pleasures you find, use your strength for yourself? All life inevitably ends, all the people you help will eventually die. What you do does not matter.”

**It matters to them. To the people I save, it means _everything_ to them. It’s their lives, it’s all they have.**

“That is so for anything that lives, be it insects or animals for slaughter. Or the enemies by your blade. You cannot save everyone.” Zenos says, his focus entirely on your reaction.

You flinch physically at the words, the first sign of pain you’d shown him since he’d seen this strange, dark version of yourself. So many mortal wounds you have endured, and it is mere words which cause you discomfort. You were a warrior so invincible not even death had touched this version of yourself. How could you also be so fragile that simple sounds struck you to the core?

If the being before him is truly you, the Warrior of Light that had been hiding in the darkness… this is the most he’d ever heard you speak, and so freely. Did you truly repress so much, say so little of what you really thought? What else had you not said, what else had been lying under the surface?

He will dig it out, pry it away from you. The idea of you keeping secrets from him solidifies a deep conviction in his mind; just like that, Zenos decided it. He would know you, know _all_ of you.

**I… cannot.** You smile at him, **But even so. I can try.**

What was that look you were giving him. Why are you looking at him like that. What was it that made you smile so, alone in this place of darkness and suffering, when you were dead on your feet?

“You will fail. This endeavor is useless – tell me what you _truly_ care for, what hunger has brought you to these lengths. You cannot have become who you are, just by seeking a means to the impossible!” That would have meant you were _nothing_ like him.

But somehow, the smile changes into something he recognized, a little less broken, a little brighter… fiercer. Something he’d seen before in battling you, something in your eyes that had glittered at him and set his blood aflame.

Something, Zenos saw, even darker than the void around him. But oh, how you shone like a star to his eyes.

**Of course I have. That’s who I am. I try _because_ it is impossible, and even knowing that, I still hope to succeed.**

As much as he’d seen of the warrior he wanted to fight, he feels you are slipping away.

“You hope anyways? What foolishness is that? You know, you admit that you cannot save everyone you wish to; that is the truth. Neither you nor I can overcome such a thing, merely act out for the desires we have for ourselves. What you speak of is alike to throwing yourself from the edge and hoping not to fall. The world will not change for you.”

**So? To me, that just means I have to make it change. For you… Yes, you wouldn’t try something knowing it can’t be done.** You lift your heavy blade high to rend him. Every movement spills blood from your various wounds. **That is why I can survive in this Abyss, and you cannot.**

That fierce look in your eyes that matched the look you’d had the day of your spar. Zenos likes the look of it on you, but it shouldn’t appear here, it shouldn’t show up when you were defending your foolish idealism. That look should be reserved for battle alone, for the Warrior Zenos knew as his one and only equal in the world, the Warrior who could stand beside him above even the gods.

How can that Warrior be the same person as this walking corpse before him? Even when you admit he’s correct, you act as though you have won this argument, an absurd gesture. You were the one standing in tatters, bleeding from a thousand mortal blows. Still, you look as though you are on the edge, and you will fall to a single swipe. Standing alone in the darkness, illuminated by a light source Zenos still cannot identify.

Zenos tries to lift his weapon to block but finds he cannot. When he looks down his eyes widen – the black blood on his blade had completely engulfed the weapon, creeping up his arm, his armor. He could barely tell his own limb from the blackness of his surroundings.

Your weapon descends upon him, and once more he hears that damnable voice.

_The warrior is right. You would not try._

It comes upon him just before his vision goes black once more. For the first time in a long while, ever since he had bested all his trainers in Garlemald and come to realize there was no one left to match him, Zenos felt it.

Frustration.

 

 

Zenos emerged from the Resonance slumped over in his chair. He bolted upwards immediately, eyes darting to the figure beside him.

You.

“Have you stood there this whole time? How long?” He demanded, studies your expression, looking for any trace of the mad, broken warrior he had seen within your mind.

He found nothing. Your brows were furrowed, your lips tightened into an almost frown.

“Your eyes shone like Fordola’s had before, and I saw some of my… _memories,”_ You ground out, clear anger in your voice.

Zenos ignored the scathing look you gave him, waiting for your next words with a demanding stare. He had practiced enough the art of moving you to words; it came naturally to him now.

Soon enough, the silence made you speak. “And then you fell back in your chair. You only woke just now.”

Eyes boring into yours, Zenos searched your face and found only confusion. Was it possible that you did not know what had taken place between him and that ‘other side’ of yours?

“And what else did you see? Did naught at all take place while I sat here?”

A cursory examination told Zenos you were in perfect physical condition. Your breathing was even, your heartbeat steady. That would be impossible if you had been experiencing the injuries you had in that inner part of your mind, whether or not they were real.

“I saw nothing else. Whatever your Resonance does, I could not see it.”

You chose not to tell him that those who you used the Echo on usually didn’t realize it was being used on them.

_Worry not. Zenos and I just had a little meeting, a little conversation. So very at home he was, mauling our body brutally within the Abyss. If I hadn’t expelled him when I did, he would have been consumed. So strange, though, that a Garlean would be so attuned to the Abyss._

That did sound strange.

Wait. Fray. _I didn’t do anything to him, didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know._

As soon as your darkside thought back to the encounter to tell you about it, you began to recall the memories as though they had happened to yourself. Which they had; only it had been your darkside. The very recent memories rush back at you and – FRAY!

_We’re the same person! You can’t be angry at me, you’re just angry at yourself!_

What kind of argument was that? Why would you… no, Fray had just been defending you. And you were lucky that Fray had been able to, that the Dark Knight’s power had been so strong as to interfere with the Echo itself. Or the Resonance, rather. If that hadn’t been the case, Zenos could have learned about Estinien, about what had happened just the other day.

_We may have doubts, but we will see this path to the end._ Perhaps, but there was no way to guarantee that Zenos would believe that. _You_ were the one who said you’d trusted _him_ with your life, not the other way around. You had trusted Zenos enough to not doubt you, but the man was no fool. If he believed Estinien could make you leave… You didn’t know what he would do about it –

_Wrong. We know exactly what he would do about it._ No, Zenos was no fool. He would at least interrogate them, see how he’d gotten here and why. If that happened, Estinien should get a chance to send you some kind of signal or message. You and he had fought side-by-side, traveled together, trusted each other with your backs and safety. Estinien would know that you would save him, even if you’d fought before.

_As long as Lucia and him are not discovered at once, you may be right._

The greater problem was Zenos’s newfound power. And how you could keep him from seeing into your more recent past when he used it. Zenos had almost gotten into the memories of Estinien on his very first try. _He also nearly died in the Abyss. We saved his life, you know. If he uses the Resonance on us again, we’ll simply drag him there again._

If Fray was confident you could stop Zenos, then you could stop Zenos. Still, it was unlike anything that had ever happened to you before. Whatever Zenos had been doing, it made his Resonance powerful, beyond your ability to repel. You’d needed to drag him to a forbidden plane of existence few in the world even knew of to keep him out. Then again, you had never heard of _anyone_ repelling the Echo, so perhaps it was merely the nature of the power.

_Someone has now,_ Fray said, with a hint of pride.

You smiled to yourself, ignoring Zenos’s inquisitive stare. It was an accomplishment indeed. How you’d fought in the Abyss, how you’d overcome Zenos there, and turned him away from your mind. A mirror of the battle that had been your first meeting, except the opposite. Nothing he had done could phase you, and everything you did had hurt him.

_It was strange that he could survive at all inside the Abyss. A Garlean, of all people, so attuned to the place. I suppose it makes sense, with his love for chaos and bloodshed._

Was it really? Fray understood the Abyss better than you did. You supposed it was a terribly inhospitable place, but you and Fray had grown accustomed to it, and what it meant, long ago.

_Stranger still that he could become a Dark Knight. Then again, he has nothing to fight for._

Zenos could become a

What?

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you there would be some real WoL/Zenos feels coming up! Only took me several unplanned chapters to get there, lol
> 
> Additionally, the Dark Knight place is called the Abyss because the level 70 DRK gear is called the Abyssal Set… and because I play way too much Dark Souls! In my defense, however, a lot of the flavor text for Dark Knights talks about the Abyss, which is not necessarily the same place as the Void (where the Voidsent come from, apparently created in the world opposite to the Warriors of Darkness world, where there was too much… Darkness). I decided to leave myself the ambiguity, though, and more importantly the place where you confront the Fray/Esteem doppelganger sure does look like a void. Ain’t no lights in there. 
> 
> Chapter updates are probably going to start happening weekly-ish, simply because the chapters themselves are getting longer. If the next chapter is shorter, it will probably come sooner. If I'm taking a while, it just means the next chapter is going to be pretty big. Or I've come up with a new plot point I want to shove into the story, and I'm working on another chapter later down the line. In the end, I really do love this story and I work hard on it. I said I'd set this ship to sail, and I mean it, dammit! Slow Burn aside, we have... um, released the anchor? WoL and Zenos are getting closer, slowly but surely learning more about each other. 
> 
> Anyways, how do you guys felt about our confrontation? What do you think is going to come of it? There's some serious foreshadowing in this chapter, but of course not everything is as it seems. I'd love to hear some predictions or theories! And a sincere thank you, to the sweethearts who've been encouraging me this whole time! You guys always brighten my day <3
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed, see you in a week or so :D


	12. You saved me

“Hm. Say that if it pleases you. But I did not come so far only to let your secrets slip my grasp so easily; tell me who it was, in that memory you were desperate to keep out of my claws.” Zenos demanded, as you expected him to.

 _We can pretend not to know of what he speaks,_ Fray said. You couldn’t deny the appeal of that idea; however, you also weren’t sure you could afford for Zenos try his hand at your memories again. You could drag him into the Abyss again, yes; but at what cost to yourself?

Fray was silent, which was your cue to go ahead.

“Why does it matter to you?” You asked, sitting back down in the chair. Crossing your arms. It seemed ‘interrogation’ was the right word for this after all.

Zenos fell silent, gazing down at you with those blue, blue eyes – blue like _his_ eyes – filled with something not quite boredom, not quite annoyance. Seething with it.

No. _No,_ Fray agreed. You weren’t playing this game. He wanted answers from you? He could stand to give you some. Zenos was a Prince, but he was not _your_ Prince. For all the saving you’d done, you served no lord and master. You’d see the end of the world a thousand times over before you bowed to his demands. He could _not_ push you around and expect you to answer his every question.

 _He should be glad we indulged him as much as we did in the Abyss,_ Fray added. _Clearly, we gave him more answers than he deserved. Now he expects us to pour out our soul before him?_

As always, Fray was right.

Watching for several moments, letting tension build in the air, his eyes narrowing, Zenos finally said, “Answer my question first, _Warrior of Light,”_ His words lingered on the appellation as though it would insult you, “If you expect a response to your own.”

You took a deep breath, readying yourself.

“His name,” You said, meeting Zenos’s eyes evenly. Showing no weakness. “Was Haurchefant. He was an Ishgardian knight, and my friend.”

Zenos stared back. Blankly. It was obvious this elezen had been a warrior far beneath even your former, weaker self. And so even further still beneath his own note – if the elezen had stood before him upon your first meeting, he would have been slain in one stroke.

Your typical blank expression and even tone revealed to him nothing of your true feelings. Worthless, so worthless these things you worried for and agonized over. He much preferred your bloodthirsty self, filled with a desire to prove your strength, filled with the will to triumph and succeed. That Warrior in the Abyss who had been overjoyed to fight past the point of death, surpassing all mortal limitations.

Just like him.

That was the Warrior he wanted. And that, Zenos smiled, was the Warrior he would have. The perfect tool had been laid already at his disposal, and it pleased him to no end that the Resonance had turned out to be useful after all. Much unlike that dead elezen you called friend.

“You know as well as I how empty an answer that was. Tell me why you so desperately wanted to avenge that pathetic, dying creature.” The sharpness in your eyes cut straight through his chest, a delicate and precise edge Zenos _savored._

While not quite his favorite of your expressions, he would gladly accept rage over that wretched indifference you had so often shown him. Too reminiscent of himself, before he had met you. Now that he had you within reach, could touch you through pointed fingertips and savor your hesitation in his new battlefield of pointed questions and sudden proximity.

“Did you see nothing of that vision? Hear none of his words?” The thought occurred to you that Zenos _didn’t_ see the whole thing. He didn’t realize what Haurchefant had done for you. But even if Zenos did know…

Would it matter at all to him?

“You know full well how much I saw, for you and I saw those scenes together,” Zenos said, inclining his head. Staring you down.

“He died from a spear to the chest. It had been aimed at me; Haurchefant,” You had to fight to keep your voice steady, “saw the attack before I did, and took it in my place.”

Zenos considered you for a moment. “Mayhap I was mistaken, then. He was of use to you after all.”

It is then your mask cracked, unable to hold together. Your normally blank face contorted in rage.

You shoved the table aside, sending it crashing into the wall as you bolted towards Zenos.

In an instant he was out of his own chair, standing tall even when you were ilms away. Invading his space as he had invaded yours, to no success. A raised brow was the only evidence of your effect on him.

“I did not.” You said, your voice low and deceptively calm, “ **Use**. Haurchefant. He was my friend _.”_

 _That was the wrong thing to say,_ Fray droned. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides. _What does Zenos know of friendship? Of what Haurchefant has done for us?_

“Your friend.” Zenos echoed back to you, his voice devoid of any inflection. You met his eyes with rage burning in your chest.

“Yes.” You said to his face, so very close to yours. His skin was fair, terribly pale, smooth and pale, almost like porcelain. You wondered if you could hit him hard enough for it to bruise.

“He was wise enough to understand his true worth, I suppose. Your Haurchefant,” his voice seemed full of scorn, but you knew it was just your imagination, “He recognized your brilliance, your might as a warrior. He knew his life was far less important than yours, you were far stronger than him. So he made the sensible trade; cunning of him, perhaps, but that was the extent of his worth.”

A feeling began to pool in your stomach, cold like ice, your anger fading away before the sick feeling. You didn’t want to hear this, you didn’t want to hear it at all.

Zenos was right.

Your life had been worth more than Haurchefant’s. He had always considered you to be more than… just… more _._ _Hope Incarnate._ It hurt to think about. That he’d put you on a pedestal, weighted the weight of his life against yours, and found his own to be lighter. Thought so highly of you, and so little of himself. You had nothing to say to Zenos, you could not argue for your friend’s worth. Zenos only ever thought of worth as power, as what a person could do on a battlefield.

Live or die. Maim or kill. Be the hunter who chased and ripped apart their opponent, or the prey who ran and cowered and felt their life drain from their wounds. Strength, skill, cunning; the virtues of a hunter, of Zenos’s _worthy prey._ That was the scale that Zenos weighed Haurchefant’s life upon. More disturbingly, it seemed that Haurchefant had judged his value by those virtues as well.

He'd gone to his estranged father and family to grant you shelter in Ishgard. That was strength. He’d been able to recognize the truth of the Dragonsong War, even when it was a hard thing to accept. That was strength. He’d been willing to sacrifice himself for you. That was strength.

 _And all that strength,_ Fray said in a disturbingly soft voice that reminded you of Zenos, _All that strength counted for **nothing** when Sir Zephrin attacked him. Had he stood before the enemies we’d fought, he would have died, and he knew it. That’s why he took that attack in our place._

“You asked me, I answered.” You heard your voice say. “Now you answer my question. Why does it matter to you?”

“Hm.” Zenos considered you for a moment. He far preferred your earlier anger to that concerned, conflicted expression on your face; a hunter, after all, had to be direct. “It pleased me to know. You think me beyond idle curiosity?”

“And you complain about my answers being empty?”

Zenos gave a chuckle at that.  

“Very well. I had thought it obvious enough. You are broken, tired, and weary of battle,” Your fingers twitched inside your fist, “And you could be so much _more._ I only wish to restore you to your full glory, to that Warrior I fought in the Abyss, that Warrior who sparred without quarter the other day. So lacking in spirit you are, but brimming still with unbridled power, waiting to be unleashed.”

A purple mark would suit his face, you thought darkly. There was no doubt in your mind Zenos had not suffered one moment in his life for whatever wretched things he had deigned to say to others. He never faced any consequences, and certainly never had to despair of the consequences that other people had met with in his stead. It was different for you, though. Implacable as he was, you were strong enough to injure him.

It wasn’t like you to think such things. It wasn’t like you at all. But of course, Zenos brought out the worst in you, these hateful urges. Of course, he’d gotten you to think of resorting to base violence, to lash out like an animal at anything that so much as annoyed you. Like a beast.

And your anger just now had proved him right. That needling you like this would get the reaction he wanted. If you were to attack him when he did not expect it, even if he didn’t avoid the blow, Zenos would be satisfied.

“Well, I told you where all my _spirit_ came from. Haurchefant was my friend, and I wanted to avenge him. There was nothing more to it.” He was your friend and nothing more. And nothing less.

“Was that really it, Warrior of Light?” Zenos drawled, stepping even closer to you, his voice vibrating in the air. Filled with energy, anticipation. “He was your friend? Not because you had failed to save him, as you failed to defeat me when first we met? Your lust for vengeance was not at all stirred by the wound to your hero’s pride, and solely driven by a useless grief?”

You choked out a laugh. It burned in your throat.

had always wondered if you would have survived, if Haurchefant’s sacrifice was truly necessary. If there wasn’t something you could have done. You knew you should have been able to save him, do something. You were the Warrior of Light and you couldn’t even save the one person who had done everything for you. A wound to your pride, a failure – that didn’t even begin to cover it.

“That was a part of it, certainly. You’ve seen already how much I care about being the Warrior of Light, the undefeatable hero. Trying to save everyone, even knowing that I can’t.” You said. You met his eyes. Whether or not he didn’t approve, whether he looked down on you for it – you found you no longer cared. Zenos could make of this whatever he wanted. “But, Zenos.”

You let him wait for the rest of your words. Blue eyes narrowing at you.

It’s easy to let him wait some more. He didn’t say anything. Just burned holes into your eyes. A vivid blue, filled with a lust for blood and battle, gazing luridly at you. Nothing like his.

“I had _wanted_ to save him.”

 

With that you left.

Before you actually did attack him. You weren’t about to fight him in the real world today, after what had happened in the Abyss. You might have won, but winning while you sustained life-threatening injuries and held on through sheer force of will through everything wasn’t something you were interested in repeating.

Asahi had been waiting outside.

 _What would have happened if we had gone through with it and slapped Zenos?_ The idea gave you a perverse sort of horrified pleasure. Asahi would without a doubt have heard it; earning his ire would have hurt you in the long run, but you would have liked to see his reaction. It was wholly unlikely, however, that Zenos would have just stood there and taken it without it leading into a fight.

So here you were, walking the hall with a weight on your shoulders much like lead, Asahi trailing behind, eager to interrogate you about your interrogation. Really, if he had actually though you his superior, he shouldn’t have been asking.

“You did not offend Lord Zenos, I expect?” Asahi’s tone indicated that he very much expected that you had offended Lord Zenos.

At least he was learning. To be fair, it wasn’t as though Zenos was really _offended_ by anything you’d done. There had been that bit at the end where you – mostly Fray, your darkside had a very vindictive streak – had mocked him for being unable, unwilling to take on the challenges you had. Zenos had seemed merely annoyed at that, but it had definitely touched him.

The implication that there was something Zenos couldn’t do, that there was something beyond his considerable abilities. You knew it bothered him, because it would have bothered you.

“He didn’t seem to take any of my barbs to heart, no.” You said.

Asahi’s look of despair mixed with anger warmed your heart. That hadn’t been Zenos’s influence; you’d just spent so long going out of your way for people that it was quite nice to have someone to annoy at every opportunity. Was this how Lahabrea had felt? It would have explained a lot about his behavior.

“I suppose if I chastise you it would be to no end,” Asahi sighed, “Please understand; I do truly mean to _help,_ you know.”

You didn’t even spare him a glance. Whether he meant it or not would affect you little, in the end. What could Asahi do to you?

“If you say so.” Asahi’s footsteps quickened; he was obviously trying to keep pace with you.

When you got to your room you breathed a sigh of relief and went in without looking back. Asahi seemed almost poised to try and enter alongside you, but thankfully he was interrupted.

“Asahi,” A voice called out. Familiar, almost, but you had no interest in listening. You just wanted to go to your room, sleep, pretend you didn’t exist. Pretend this day hadn’t happened. Ignore the very real possibility that Zenos was still curious, hungry for more, waiting for some opportunity to pry into your memories and see what the word ‘friend’ meant to you.

See the details of your friendship with Haurchefant. See how much you had needed him. How _weak_ you had been.

What did it matter, though? You were alive now. You were strong enough to give Zenos the fight he wanted. That should be enough for him.

_“You cannot disappoint me.”_

It seemed you were unable to...

“What is it? Can you not see–”

“It is the Emperor, sir. A missive for you, arrived just now.”

Lucia, you realized dimly. It was Lucia who had interrupted Asahi.

You should try and contact her, but in front of him… and they had already left. You didn’t want to draw attention to her.

Why had she come here? Was she looking for you? Estinien should have told her at least where you were.

No, you were too tired for this. Too sick of this. You didn’t want to think about anything.

You shut and locked the door behind you, then fell into your bed without missing a beat.

 

You don’t sleep well that night.

Of course there would be dreams. Of course you would not rest well, fall into an oblivion as deep and endless as the Abyss, a calming nothingness where all your pain and worries faded until they, too, were nothingness. Of course that would not happen, not this night.

You know it’s a nightmare the moment you see it.

Black walls, black pillars, solid grey metal floors everywhere. The room doesn’t appear to end, just goes off into the distance, shadowed beyond any recognition. It was like a child’s rendition of what the heart of Garlemald would look like, an ominous parody of the dark, grey Garlean architecture.

The floor is tiled. You can hear the clicking of boots against it.

It all fades away, pale blackness washed out by the scene illuminated before you. A bright and burning whiteness descends upon the figures before you. Somehow they seem to be footsteps away, while also feeling so very distant. Out of reach.

Haurchefant, lying on the ground. His shield broken beside him, splintered into fragments far past the point of ever being reassembled. Barely recognizable as having once been one solid sheet of metal.

That is not what makes your breath catch, your heart stutter. You’d already seen Haurchefant fall, after all.

No.

It is Zenos yae Galvus, standing above him, one boot on the elezen’s chest, another resting just beside him. It was obvious to you that Zenos is not putting his full weight on him, which meant little to a man his size, especially with his armor on.

He presses down, and you cannot tell if the rib that cracks is Haurchefant’s or your own, with the pain in your chest.

No. No, this was a nightmare.

It was of course a nightmare, but you weren’t waking up. You couldn’t wake up. You had to watch. _He made us watch._

The hard-fought whimper of pain from the elezen beneath him sends a look of disgust crawling up Zenos’s face. He stares down at Haurchefant as though he were a particularly revolting insect he had found in his boots.

But his gaze on your friend is short lived. Instead he looks directly at you. His eyes locking with yours. Your eyes widen in shock, in horror.

Zenos smiles.

Again he bears down on his chest, again Haurchefant cries out.

It should be you. It should be you hurting, suffering, dying. It should be you.

Zenos doesn’t take his eyes off you as he does it, as your dearest friend is crushed beneath him. He is focused entirely on you. Smiling, smiling that damned knowing smile, smiling while he was _killing_ Haurchefant. All to watch the expression you made as he did it.

Haurchefant didn’t deserve this. Haurchefant wasn’t the target of this. It was you. It had been you, the spear pointed at you, Zenos’s gaze like a dagger pointed at you.

A laugh comes, echoes out through the empty meaningless chamber. Zenos’s cruel amusement is almost enough to drown it out when Haurchefant coughs. Coughs blood. Like he had before.

It should always have been you.

You open your mouth to speak, you move your lips and tongue but heard nothing at all. Not a sound came out of your mouth. All the things you want to say build and build in your chest, a sick churning with no way out.

_No. Please, no. Do it to me, hurt me, I can take it. Step on me. It should be me suffering, it should be me dying, it should be me there and not him, he doesn’t deserve this!_

As though he had somehow heard you, Zenos tilts his head to the side. He takes his foot off Haurchefant only to deliver a swift kick to the downed man’s side, drawing a sharp yelp from him. Still he does not take his eyes off you.

Please, no. No. No. Please, it should be you. It should be you.

“Does this pathetic mewling bother you?” Zenos knows it does. Zenos would not have hurt him if it didn’t. “Here, let me silence it.”

He’s still looking at you, Zenos is still looking at you when he leans down and lifts Haurchefant off the floor. By the throat. The only noises he makes now are choking gasps for air.

Zenos holds Haruchefant out, lifting him up with a single hand, so that you can better see the abused elezen.

You can’t summon any rage. Not a single drop.

What right do you have to be angry and protect Haurchefant? It was _Haurchefant_ who protected _you._ You’d needed his protection. Pathetic. _Pathetic,_ Zenos’s voice echoed in your mind.

You were the reason he died. You were the reason Zenos was hurting him. Haurchefant had only ever helped you, and in the end you had caused his end, his suffering.

He’d spoken to you. Zenos had spoken to you, so does Haurchefant know that you are here?

Does he think you will save him? Is he afraid?

It’s just a nightmare, it’s just a nightmare, and still the panic wells up within you. Is Haurchefant scared? More horrifying to you is the idea that Haurchefant _isn’t_ scared, that he knows that you are here and he knows you will come to save him.

Except you can’t. You can’t save him, you could never save him, he would only ever _die._ In your place.

“In your place,” Zenos drawls at you, his thumb sweeping across Haurchefant’s jaw, leaving an angry red line. “Like your Paladin spell? Why hadn’t you used that? Why didn’t you save him, _hero?”_

He steps towards you and you step backwards. Haurchefant’s broken body hits the ground with a resounding _thud_ as Zenos throws it aside like so much trash.

Why didn’t you save Haurchefant? You didn’t know. Couldn’t ever know. You don’t even remember what you had been thinking at the time, only that you had stared stupidly at Haurchefant as a spear of light pressed against his shield. The idea that he might be hurt by it, let alone killed, hadn’t even occurred to you.

The idea that he could die had _never_ occurred to you, ever. You hadn’t considered that any of your friends might meet their end while they fought alongside you, much less _because_ of it.

“A hero would worry. The Warrior of Light would never leave a _friend,_ ” the word hangs in the air for a moment before Zenos continues, “to die. Much less in your own place. No, you didn’t care enough to protect him. You cared only for battle!”

Zenos is right in front of you. Haurchefant lies far behind, bleeding. Like before.

“I was stupid,” You confessed, “I was stupid, I stood there like a fool instead of doing something, helping him, healing him. I was a fool!”

Desperation adds volume to your voice as you shout your next words, “But I did care about him! Even if I failed, even if I couldn’t save him. I cared. I cared!”

“You did tell me that was the source of your vengeful rage,” Zenos leaned in close to you, closer than he had ever been, “But you also knew that path led to greater, more powerful enemies to slay. That failure burned at your pride, spurred you on, thinking of naught but your own bloodlust. The only reason you stayed a hero was to prove that you could!”

Of all the things he could have said, this chord of truth cuts the deepest.

After Haurchefant died you stopped wanting to be a hero. You kept at it because you knew he would have wanted it, and then later because you knew nothing else. Being the Warrior of Light had become your whole life, a role that demanded all your attention, one you had lost all joy in playing.

Since his death the only thing that had roused your true passion was Zenos himself. Defeating you, calling you pathetic. It had been only that defeat which drove you to the mantle of Warrior once more, the burning desire to defeat this new and implacable opponent who had _dared_ to beat you.

“It is because you are not a hero! You have never been a hero! You were only ever looking for a fight, for a challenge. The next great enemy to fight, the next great strategy to defeat them and the next way to strengthen yourself. It’s all a game to you! Just like the hunt!”

He was right, Zenos was right. You were just like him, you knew.

With his forehead pressed against yours, it is impossible not to examine his eyes, which should be a blue beyond belief. As is the strange case in dreams, you only notice Zenos’s eyes now. They have been on you this whole time, staring straight at you.

They are your own eyes. The exact shade, the exact flicker of light, nothing like the dull boredom or ravenous hunger for battle you’d seen in Zenos’s eyes before.

 

From the end of the hall you hear a whisper, faintly echoing, crashing upon you with the force of mountains.

“A smile…”

No he couldn’t say this

You feel Zenos’s breath on your cheek when you turn your head, but you do not see his expression; your world has been reduced to the crumpled pile of an elezen far past him.

“Better suits…”

He didn’t get to say this

Haurchefant had no right to say this to you, he was _leaving you behind_ and he wanted you to smile

How dare he! How _dare_ he tell you to be happy!

 

“SHUT UP!” You shout, your rage finally unleashed, but it is not upon Zenos.

You run over, in an instant. Zenos is gone, as though he had never been there. Haurchefant is bleeding from his chest, as though he had been stabbed. Pierced through the chest.

The lighting has changed, but you do not notice. The red and orange of sunsets surround you and Haurchefant; you are at the Vault once more, only there is no Aymeric this time to hold him.

Only you and him.

He’s smiling. That damned smile.

“A smile better suits-”

You don’t permit him to finish his last words, absolutely not, this time you tell him what you meant for him to hear.

“Shut up! Shut up! You don’t get to tell me to smile! You’re dying! Why should I smile?! How dare you ask me to smile!” You rage, you shriek, crying your heart out to the elezen you knew to be long dead.

How dare he! How dare he! Tears stream down your face without your permission.

“I wanted you to be happy.”

The world is dark now, and this you notice. Black like the void, like the Abyss. You stare down at Haurchefant, breathing heavily from your shouting.

It’s not Haurchefant, you know. It can’t be because Haurchefant is dead. It’s just a nightmare of Haurchefant, just what you would imagine that he would say to you, if he were here. It wasn’t him.

“I wanted you to understand that it was okay for you to smile… after I died. I didn’t want you to mourn me forever. I wanted you to smile. So I asked you to.”

You’d known him well. So well. But then again, this Haurchefant was just in your head, so he would be exactly the person that you believed he was. Not the person he actually was. The person he actually was, was _dead._

Still the tears fall from your eyes. Still he smiles at you. Why is he smiling. He knows he is dying, dead. Why is he smiling.

“My dear, I do not think you have the strength to see me cry. I would never do anything to hurt you, even in a dream. Especially in a nightmare.”

The real Haurchefant would say that, too.

“Will you please move on? For me?”

“Shut up. You’re selfish,” You whimper. You had never wanted to think these things about Haurchefant, but here they were, coming from your mouth. “You’re selfish. You wanted to see me smile. Die thinking that I could be happy. And I smiled and pretended like you said! Because you told me to. I wasn’t happy. I don’t know how to be happy anymore. I don’t think I ever knew.” What you wanted. You didn’t know what you wanted.

Did you want anything at all, anymore?

“Maybe you don’t.” Haurchefant says. His voice is soft. Comforting. You can taste his cocoa now, sweet and warm and always there willing to help you, reassure you. Die for you. In your place.

“Maybe you don’t,” Haurchefant repeats, “And that’s okay. It is my dearest wish that you can find happiness, but I know that road is long and hard for one who’s lived your life.”

You let out a low whine, the memory of his kindness cutting you like glass in your chest. “That road got me nothing! I did everything, saved everyone, and still! Still you died! I’m not a hero anymore. I’m not your hero. Everything, I left it behind. I’m selfish too. That’s why you’re selfish, you’re just a figment of my imagination, the real Haurchefant-”

“Perhaps the real Haurchefant would never interrupt you,” Such a smooth voice for someone who is injured, “But if he cannot be here, if you cannot believe I am him, then I must correct you in his stead.”

You fall to your knees beside him. Reach out to hold him in your arms. Amazingly, this nightmare, this dream allows it. He’s just as warm as you always imagined.

Somehow you can feel the life flowing out of him.

“You cannot disappoint me.” His smile had never been so infuriating, and so sincere.

How was it he could not understand? That only made it worse. Everyone in the world expected things from you, everyone would be disappointed in you if you didn’t continue to deliver them all the miracles they demanded. The only person you couldn’t disappoint was _gone_ and –

You stare at Haurchefant, dying in your arms. His eyes are so blue. So pretty.

“I don’t want to be a hero anymore, but,” You swallow, “I want to live up to your every expectation. I want to be your Warrior of Light that you called Hope Incarnate, I want to be everything you’d ever dreamed and more. That’s what I want. That’s what would make me happy.”

He laughs at that, then, a pleasant sound that fills you with warmth.

“The real Haurchefant never did tell you he loved you. But you must know it is true. Even if who he loved was the Warrior of Light, isn’t the Warrior of Light who you are?”

“Maybe. I got tired of it. Sick of it. Bored of it. Heroes don’t run away from their problems and leave everyone else to clean up the mess. Heroes don’t act like everything is just a game, they don’t fight for fun and thrills. Heroes don’t run away with their enemies–”

“No.” He reaches a hand up to stroke your cheek. You lean into it. “You are a hero. Whatever you do, is what a hero would do. None of the things you call ‘your problems’ were ever your problems in the first place, they were the world’s, they belonged to many people. They should have taken the work of many people to solve, but instead you came and saved them.”

“I didn’t,” You whisper, “I didn’t save you.”

His other hand rises to hold your face, wipe away your tears with his thumbs. “You saved me. You saved me.”

“I didn’t, you’re not making any sense.” You cry more and more, tears flooding your vision. “You’re dead. I didn’t save you. I killed you! It’s my fault you’re dead! That strike was aimed for me, it should have been me!”

“You saved me.” Hauchefant repeats, looking up at you with reverence. Stroking your face as though it is made of glass.

This was a stupid dream. You were pathetic. Pathetic! You were having this Haurchefant who wasn’t real offer you comfort you didn’t deserve _,_ because you wanted forgiveness, absolution, from this _simulacrum –_

 **A simulacrum? Not of our making.** It meant nothing where it came from, this wasn’t your Haurchefant, he had died. He had never been _your_ Haurchefant.

“Some people die of old age, some people die in battle,” Haurchefant says, “But you saved me.”

“Death is death, regardless of the reason.” You tell him, closing your eyes. “No matter your deeds, you’re dead and gone and nothing will change that.”

“But my death prevented yours. It is not that I died that has meaning. It is that I lived.” When you open down to look into his eyes, blinking out your tears, you wonder if below you is the true Haurchefant after all. His eyes are so blue, so pretty.

Pretty and nonsensical. Haurchefant had died. He hadn’t lived. You could feel the life flowing out of him, trickling away, in your arms. Just like how it would have been with the true Haurchefant.

“Because I met you, because I saw your struggles and became a part of your life… I became someone more than who I was. The person I always hoped to be.”

 _A knight lives to serve – to aid those in need._ Had he been… Had he been just like you, after all? Trying to save everyone? When you met him, he had been trying to save his friend from unbelievable accusations. He’d needed your help for it.

“I was a person strong enough, good enough, to save _you.”_

As Myste had before him, Haurchefant dissolves into a blackened blue cloud, sparks of brightness shimmering away from him.

It didn’t change anything. Haurchefant was dead. He was still dead, he would always be dead. It was your fault.

_You saved me._

It didn’t change anything! If he had said his life had meaning because of you, then wasn’t it all the worse that you had caused his death? Wasn’t it all the worse that it had been cut short because of you? It would be better if you and he had never met, if it had been you who was pierced by that weapon. You wouldn’t have died! You couldn’t die!

_You saved me._

You couldn’t save everyone. Fray had _told you_ that you couldn’t save everyone. Even now, Estinien could die, Lucia could die, stupid little Asahi could die, everyone you’d left behind in Ala Mhigo could die –

 **They aren’t dead yet.** Oh, so now Fray chose to swap sides? **I said nothing of the sort. I said only the truth. They are not dead yet.**

Unlike Haurchefant.

_You saved me._

What kind of nightmare was this, where Haurchefant said this to you? You had only ever wished you could save him. Even if he had felt that way, it was impossible for you to know. Haurchefant was dead, dead and gone. No one could save him now.

 

Once again you are in the dark. Back in that endless hall filled with pillars and shadows.

Behind you are footsteps. Ones you recognize.

How does a person recognize footsteps? You know who it is before you even turn. Hear that voice, deep, growling. Angry.

“Does it upset you?” Estinien’s voice sneers. Cruel, hateful.

His voice had been like that. He had been like that. It was just a dream, but the real Estinien had – the real Estinien would –

Claws much like a dragon’s talons dig into your collar, tearing you off the ground, lifting you high in the air as though you weight nothing. They scraped against your neck as he clutched harder, angrier.

“His death is on your hands. You failed him. And then you left!” He shakes you in the air, and you hand limply from his grip, unresisting, “You left his home, you left Ishgard to fight in a war that wasn’t our own, after a thousand years of war! You killed Haurchefant and abandoned his home!”

Count Edmont had told you that you would always have a home in Ishgard. That he thought about you every day. His son had died for you.

Estinien’s spear gleams in the arm

When the spear pierces you it feels like justice. Reightous agony, a well-earned pain. The pain that Haurchefant had endured before dying in front of you. It should have been you anyways.

You open your mouth to speak, but only blood trickles out.

That was fine. What were you going to say, anyways? Your chest is coated in your own blood. Staining your front, pouring out.

Knowing full well it isn’t enough to kill you, you reach out to Estinien, brushing your fingers against his cheek. He snarls at you; it looks like there are fangs in his mouth.

“I’m sorry.” You manage. Your hand falls to your side.

“Sorry? You dare apologize?!” His voice rises like a crescendo, like the sound of his metal armor clinking on the floor, “If you are so _sorry,_ then why won’t you **_come back?!_** _”_

You wouldn’t come back because you didn’t want to. Disappointment, resentment – you didn’t fear those things. All you had to do was tell them that you’d negotiated for Zenos to leave Ala Mhigo in return, and they would accept it. No, what you feared was what would come after – even if Zenos returned to Garlemald and you never saw any of the Empire again, unlikely as that may be, you would still.

You would _still_ be the hero! They would come to you, the leaders of every nation-state and bourgeoning republic, they would all come to you with their problems. Every time a primal was summoned, a conflict took place, a mystery was afoot. They would always come straight to you, demanding you fix it, flailing helplessly with no solution of their own to the trials they faced.

Despite not knowing what you _did_ want from your life, you knew very well what you _didn’t_ want.

“Why? Am I a prisoner? An escaped slave?” You say, exhaustion coloring your every word, “I know I’m wrong. I know people will die because of this, suffer because of this. But people die and suffer all the time.”

“More still.” He hisses, “More still, because you refuse to help them. You deny them the only salvation they have!”

You look Estinien dead in the eyes, with a gaze like steel. Strength and resolve you hadn’t had last time you met him.

“I wasn’t born to be of use to you all.”

Even if it was selfish, even if other people died despite how you could stop it.

You’d already failed the one person you had wanted to save.

_You saved me._

Maybe Haurchefant had really felt that way. But Haurchefant was _gone._ Dead and gone, and all that was left was you. The people to whom you were hero – they lived and died their small lives, depending on you always. It was only Haurchefant who had tried to give you anything back, at a cost to himself. Only he had cared about _you,_ personally, the hero who had undergone so many trials and tribulations only to be left on his doorstep with nowhere else to go.

No one else cared. No one else asked you if you were okay, tried to lift your spirits. Offer you cocoa. You weren’t a person in their eyes. You were a _thing,_ a legend, a hero. No one thought anything of sending you to face primals and Legions and ancient Allagan devices of war.

It couldn’t be any clearer to you that your life meant _nothing_ to them. So their lives must mean nothing as well.

Suddenly it is not Estinien in front of you, holding you up by your neck.

It is Aymeric. The spear in your chest is replaced with his hand, covering the wound as to staunch the bleeding, a concerned look on his face. Warmth surrounds you, kind and inviting.

No. No, no. Why did this keep happening?! Couldn’t you tell yourself one lie, just one lie, couldn’t you just get to believe this one thing to feel better about what you’d done –

“What will you do?” Aymeric’s voice asks, gently, smiling at you kindly. Gratitude is written all over his face.

“Not as a Scion, I mean, but…” The sincerity in his tone tugs at your heartstrings, tears form in your eyes, “What do you want for yourself?”

You want to cry. You want to cry.

“I don’t know!” You say to your friend as he holds you in his arms. Like he had held Haurchefant. “I don’t know! I just. I just know it’s not this…”

 

And then it is Alisaie. You are kneeling on the ground, hands to the floor, as you had been the second time you and Zenos met.

She casts her spell on you, just like she did that time, as well. She had told him he was wrong. Healed you. So that you could protect her and the others, of course.

Midnight surrounds you both. Cyrstals glow like stars in the distance, surrounding you both in the verdant lands. You recognize this scene – from before you departed from Doma, before you fought the Warriors of Darkness, even.

“My travels have been enlightening, but I cannot say I have enjoyed them. I have lost count of the petty crises I was helpless to resolve…”

No, you didn’t want to hear any of this. You didn’t. Want. To. Hear. It.

You didn’t want to hear about how they had their own struggles, their own stories, tried to be heroes, too. When had any of their efforts helped you? Every time you fought, you fought alone! They always came to _you_ for help, begged you to do their fighting for them! When they fought for themselves it was because they couldn’t get _you_ to do it for them!

“There were others, of course. Good people… who I could not save.”

Alisaie had wanted to save people, too. As had Aymeric, you were sure. And Estinien, and…

And Haurchefant…

She’d told you what her grandfather had said. Great Louisoux, the legend, who had been a primal that no one knew about.

“We must all protect that which we hold most dear in the manner of our own choosing.”

_You saved me._

You close your eyes, and suddenly you are alone. And you feel – somehow, inexplicably, you feel better. You _were_ protecting them, everyone who had relied upon you until now. In the way you thought was best for them, and for you.

Would the true Alisaie, the real Louisoux, think the same if you could ask them?

And then you realized. It didn’t matter. You already knew _your_ answer.

You hadn’t left them behind. You hadn’t abandoned them.

The peoples of the world would not learn to protect themselves if you protected them forever. Whatever lives would be lost now, would have been lost at the time of your death. Certianly, you could have stayed in Eorzea and tried to get this message across. You could save more people if you had stayed.

But the world couldn’t rely on you, couldn’t keep you in their plans as some sort of fallback or safety net. When the day came that you were no longer in this world, they would not have you to rely on. You could fret about the people of the world now as they learned to defend themselves, or you could take a step back, for _yourself,_ and leave them to their own merits.

People would die, but you would not accept the responsibility for those deaths. Even if you could have prevented them. People died _every day._ There were people dying in Doma, in Ala Mhigo, in Limsa Lominsa and Gridania and Ul’dah and Ishgard, and even more places still. The world was enormous.

If you decided you were responsible for every death that was physically within your power to prevent, then you were responsible for most all the deaths in the world. Every back-street robbery that went bad, every assassination that went through, every scuffle in a bar that turned nasty. You had the power to prevent those things. And whatever excuse you gave for not doing it, people would still die, innocent people.

But as Zenos had said, everyone died eventually. You would save everyone – you _were_ saving everyone – but you would do it _your_ way.

The solution wasn’t for you to be in a thousand places at once, pouring out your heart and soul and dedicating every waking moment of your life to helping others, ignoring your own needs. The solution was to get _other people_ to help stop those things, to have people help themselves.

_You saved me._

And perhaps a part of it _had_ been your pride. Your ego, telling you that you were the only one who could get anything done. The vast majority of the work had always been done by you, yes, but the other Scions had strengths of their own. There were others – many others – who had the Echo. There were others who could stand up to become heroes.

_“We have to try, do we not?”_

Even if there _was_ something you could do. The first person you had to save, was yourself. The first person who deserved the Warrior of Light’s undying devotion was _you._

“They deserve their deaths, then?”

It is Estinien again. Standing above you, his lance dripping red with your blood. Justice turned to vengeance, hatred nursed and grown and ultimately turning him into what he loathed the most.

“Those who cannot help themselves, those who are unable to fight. Do you mean to leave them to their fate, because they are not worth fighting for?”

Yes. Yes, that was the harsh truth, the reality of the resolution you’d lived with.

While you were able, you had saved who you could. But…

But Zenos was _right._ In this world, a person needed to be strong if they expected to survive. If Haurchefant had been stronger, he would have lived. Maybe not everyone could be like you, but people also didn’t have to be so weak that they _needed_ you to fight their every battle for them.

The Haurchefant… the Haurchefant in your dreams had even told you, that his life meant more because he had met you, befriended you. Saved you.

“They need to save themselves.”

Estinien’s face lights up in rage, eyes shining red with hatred as he lifts his spear to deliver a killing blow.

Wincing in anticipation of the blow, you pause for a moment. Heartbeats pass and his lance does not fall upon you.

You look up and see a sword piercing Estinien’s chest.

The sound of metal boots clinking against the marble tiled floors fills the darkened chamber as Estinien’s attacker steps back.

You lay there, on the cold, hard ground. On the floor, bleeding out, like Haurchefant had.

Only this time you are not at the Vault, surrounded by allies. You are not being held by a comrade and holding the hand of your dearest friend. Alone you lie on the floor until the attacker kicks steps on Estinien’s body, which dissolves into dust upon contact.

You close your eyes immediately. The attacker steps forwards, again and again.

It is Zenos. You know it is Zenos.

“Open your eyes, fool.”

You recognize that, your eyes snap open. Zenos was not the only person you knew who wielded a sword.

Before you stands Fray; this time your darkside is in your own likeness, carrying the greatsword and clad in the armor of a Dark Knight. It’s disappointing and reassuring, that it hadn’t been someone else who came to help you. Even in your dreams, your nightmares.

In the end, it is always you who saves yourself.

“Get up already.”

You get up, and ask Fray, “Finally came out to help me, did you?”

A sigh of disgust, and then the response, “You were doing so good!”

Fray sounds frustrated, truly frustrated, flicking the greatsword to rest on the ground instead of your darkside’s shoulder.

“So good! You realized it was a lost cause, admitted they needed to help themselves, survive on their own!” You resist the urge to laugh, but Fray can tell, and glares, “What stopped it? Why would you just lie there and take it?!”

You stare at your darkside, your own face painted with distaste. So worried about you, so indignant on your behalf. Always trying to get you to stand up for yourself, seize the things you wanted.

“Hah! As though I would help you out of pity or kindness. We are one in the same, you know.”

You look into your eyes.

They are blue. Electric, crystal blue; shining at you, catching the light as they made you catch your breath.

Those as Zenos’s eyes. You know they are.

You close your eyes, willing yourself to wake up. Or just stop dreaming. You didn’t want to see anything more tonight, you didn’t want to watch your darkside transform into your greatest rival and former enemy before your very eyes, or whatever it was this dream was going.

There was no way of knowing what it meant, what was supposed to come of it. You just didn’t want to see any more.

You’d made your decision and it wouldn’t change. Even if it was selfish, you knew in your heart there was no other way that did not end with you going insane or the world collapsing on itself when you died.

Perhaps you would never be forgiven for this. It mattered not – the only one whose forgiveness you would have needed, did not even see why you would want it.

The darkness of your closed eyes seeps into your body. The calming, relaxing embrace of true rest, true sleep. The void envelops you and your mind, and all your troubles and worries are lost, for once.

You dream no more that night.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next chapter were split in two when I got the idea to write this dream sequence. It was originally supposed to be super miserable and angsty but it turned out all character developing and feelsy. If you were expecting pure angst, look elsewhere. I just physically can't write things that are too sad. I always look for something to make it happier.
> 
> Author's notes from THIS chapter:
> 
> I had SO much trouble with the WoL and Zenos’s dialogue in this chapter. The part at the beginning, I mean. I had to really think about what Zenos wanted out of the conversation, which I still don’t have a super definite answer for. I mean, obviously Zenos is super obsessed with the WoL and wants to know everything about his rival, but it’s not like I can just have him SAY that. He’s always so unconcerned with everything that doesn’t involve battle. The dialogue just went going in so many different places and I was like "No, this scene has been done before, I need to keep the focus on Haurchefant". Having Zenos carry a conversation where his goal is just “Get to know the WoL better” was harder than I thought… hopefully it will become easier in the future, otherwise this ship is in for some turbulent tides. 
> 
> Anyways, concerning Haurchefant. His last words always really bothered me. Like, telling me to smile?? The WoL is obviously not going to want to smile while his/her friend is dying!! Haruchefant was trying to reassure the WoL (and probably himself, in his last moments) that he/she should be happy even after Haurchefant died, but like. Grief! Is! Normal! It's a completely healthy and normal human reaction to feel miserable when your friends died. What is not healthy or normal is repressing it, and smiling anyways! Haurchefant told a super-stoic character who rarely shows emotion to smile despite his/her sadness. That's not good! That's a recipe for pent up grief and misery. He didn't intend for this, of course, but that doesn't make it any easier for the WoL to deal with it when the other shoe finally drops.
> 
> Someone else: “Step on me Zenos” omg, yeah, me too. I want Zenos to step on me. There’s no way you can say that without it sounding super hilarious or sexual.  
> Me: Hold. My. Fucking. Starbucks.  
> Other person: Starbucks? Basic bi – HOLY FUCK IT’S A FEELS ATTACK  
> Me: Yea it is give me my starbucks back  
> Achievement unlocked: “Say ‘step on me’ in a Zenos fanfic without it sounding sexual or funny”  
> Did it sound narmy to you? Yea or nay? I swear I really did try.
> 
> Please note that my WoL (and I myself) have blue eyes. That’s why I talked about Zenos’s eyes being a different shade, and lacking a certain spark – because he does often have the Dull Eyes of Unhappiness – or Boredom, rather, if you check the scene with Yotsuyu I think that one is the most apparent. In recent cutscenes his eyes can look very shiny, but given recent events that’s neither here nor there. Your character can’t have Zenos’s eyes in the game, he’s got the Spicy Unique Villain Rendering on his side, where his irises almost always contain multiple colors and look much more like natural human irises. Because he’s rendered in cutscenes his eyes sometimes get this really beautiful attention from the creators where certain parts of his irises catch the light and take on a different color. 
> 
> Have you noticed I’m a Zenos fangirl? Lol. 
> 
> More importantly. The next chapter should be smoother going for me but I'm having some organizational issues with chapters uh *checks draft* seventeen and eighteen. So far I have uh. I have 40 chapters. 
> 
> That's actually as much of a surprise to me as it is to any of you. Except for those of you who are super on point with your judgement of this story length, I guess. I uh. Hadn't checked the chapter count before, see XD Microsoft Word doesn't tell me how many headings I have, it just lists them. I keep adding more and more Plot to this story, it's getting pretty ridiculous. Soon enough this story might turn into all plot and no ship. Then again, I said this was going to be Slow Burn. You ALL knew what you signed up for! Slowly but surely though, I like to think I'm building some... something between the WoL and Zenos. Not remotely romantic yet, but there is a connection.
> 
> P.S. It doesn’t count as a cliché symbolic dream if the character knows it’s a symbolic dream  
> P.P.S. Don't worry I don't do prophetic dreams 100% Haruchefant is not going to come back to life just for Zenos to kill him *sweats* that would be a ridiculous cheap grab for drama and far below my caliber as a writer


	13. Silent

You looked… small.

Very small. Back arched, curling into yourself in your sleep, arms crossed about your chest defensively. The dark, plush Garlean blankets had slid off, away from you. You were shivering.

Estinien did not think it was from the cold.

He could hear you shuffling, sniffling – the thought ran lightning through his body – were you _awake?_

The sounds coming from you were quiet, soft and pitiful. Whimpers so small, so quiet, Estinien had to hone his senses, focus himself to hear.

And as soon as he heard it, he didn’t want to. Didn’t want to think of it. Estinien hadn’t been there at the Vault, hadn’t been there when Aymeric had been taken captive in that wretched, foolish endeavor. Estinien hadn’t stopped him, so you’d lost _your_ closest friend in the process of saving _his._

“Haurchefant… I don’t… want…” Just the sound of your voice, so cold and broken and _small,_ felt like glass in his chest.

He'd heard Haurchefant had died in front of you. In Aymeric’s arms. Reaching out to you, pleading for you to smile, so that he didn’t leave this world thinking you would mourn him forever.

Estinien had heard that you did it, too. Smiled for Haurchefant in his dying moments. Had it been –

Had it been Aymeric in your arms, could Estinien had done the same? Smiled at his friend while he bled out before him, knowing he was not long for this world? Could he have held his hand while he died?

Shame beyond shame. There were no words for how cruel he had been to you, how malicious and poisonous the things he said to your face. Alberic, Aymeric, Haurchefant, even the damned boy would be outraged to have heard what Estinien had done. Was there a single person in his life that he’d not hurt with his foolishness?

He had even more to worry about right now. Like Lucia. She almost certainly didn’t know that you were here, and if she came across you somehow in whatever duties she was attending, her reaction could put her under serious suspicion. Hopefully if it came to that, you would be able to get her out of that situation, but still.

Estinien was not a spy, but even he could tell that the Garleans had discovered something was wrong. Why else would they bother to send patrols their own airship? A Garlean flagship, headed towards Garlemald, sailing over the ocean; they _had_ to suspect intruders.

They had already agreed to send a warning by any means necessary if one of them got caught. Lucia was less at risk than him, at this point. Shouting at you the other day, choosing his words intentionally in order to hurt you. No better than Nidhogg, he was.

The situation was becoming more and more complicated. The last thing Estinien needed was a repeat of what had happened with Alberic; him attacking you in a rage possessed by Nidhogg. He’d… Estinien clenched his hands together at his sides. He’d attacked you quite enough for one lifetime.

Gods, he felt himself wanting to comfort you, tell you he had not meant it and that all would be well – you seemed so small, and so sad. It was pathetic of him. Just the other day he had waged war on your mind, intentionally hurt you in every way he could without actually drawing blood.  And here he was, hoping to soothe your pain and silence your quiet cries.

Twas your greatest misfortune that it was only he who witnessed your suffering. Anyone else would have been better, anyone but him. But you were the poor, misfortunate soul who’d been tasked with being the World’s Warrior of Light; you were not even allowed to be reassured by another, it seemed. Perhaps after what had happened with Haurchefant, you would not even…

He shook his head to himself. Those thoughts were to no end, now.

A sigh escaped him, and that was all it took to wake you up. A remnant of your time with him, Estinien supposed, camping in the outdoors. He himself could not help but stiffen at the sound of you stirring, bracing himself for the inevitable confrontation...

 

Of all the ways you’d woken in the past few days, you couldn’t believe you liked Asahi the best.

Then again, you weren’t worried about keeping Asahi alive – well, you were. But you weren’t worried about Asahi running headfirst into danger like an _idiot –_ well. You were. But with Asahi, you just dismissed the boy and he got all sulky and conniving. Estinien wasn’t going to just sit back and scheme. Estinien was going to do something.

Something stupid, no doubt.

You slid out of the sheets quickly, throwing a cloak about yourself as you did. It was cold, after all. _Estinien barely notices it, no doubt. He is used to it._

He probably was. There was no reason for you to be in armor yourself; he’d have to be a fool a million times over to try to fight you right here and now. _Well don’t say it aloud, he might get some ideas._ Very funny, Fray.

“What are you doing here, Estinien?” You demanded.

It terrified you to see him not speaking. Standing there, silent and stoic, staring at you blankly. Had he been watching you sleep? Had he been watching your nightmare? _More importantly, why isn’t he answering the question?_

His thin lips thinned even more from reluctance. He wished he had his helmet back. To hide his eyes, his face.

 _Enough of this. Whether or not it means lying to Zenos, we need to know._ You weren’t sure you wanted to lie to Zenos, actually, that could end very badly – _Ask the damned question already._

“Estinien, just tell me. Were you the one who pushed Aulus?”

The dragoon blinked. If he could postpone the news to you for even a second, he would do it. “I know not the Aulus you speak of. And I would have you know I have not _pushed_ anyone.”

You returned his stare blankly. _I don’t think he’s lying._

Fray was right. Estinien wouldn’t lie. The way he had said ‘pushed’ sounded like he didn’t even understand that you meant an assassination attempt, and not a hurried shove in a hallway. That just made it more frustrating.

If it wasn’t him, could it have been Lucia? That didn’t make sense _at all,_ if she was hoping to go unnoticed. If this was some kind of attempt to take someone in the Garlean Hierarchy down with her, that would make sense. But Lucia hadn’t had any reason to resort to such rash measures.

“If you’re not trying to attack the Garleans, what are you doing on this airship?” You snapped, “Lucia on a diplomatic mission – I could believe that, but what about **you** , Estinien?”

You stepped forwards, he stepped back. Reeling, almost.

“Tell me!” You snarled, closing in. Ignorance had eaten at you for days. You didn’t know what was in store for you, what you were going to do for the future – you didn’t know many things. But this, you could get answers for. Right here. Right now. “Why in the seven hells are you _here,_ Estinien?”

“Nidhogg.”

The name sends ice coursing through your veins. Nidhogg? You’d thought the Great Wyrm was gone, destroyed. If nothing else the dragon should have been gone from Estinien.

“Why are you still chasing him?” You said; your throat was beginning to fill with an unreasonable urge to scream at him. “After everything we did to save you – I though you left Ishgard, _abandoned_ Ishgard, so that you could get over this! Move on with life!”

And it occurred to you then, all at once, that Estinien had no place telling you about leaving behind your duties. He’d left behind his! It was acceptable for him to abandon his post as the Azure Dragoon, leave the city wordlessly, but not for you? _Hah! A shame we did not think of this earlier._

Just as you began to take a deep breath, calm yourself before Fray goaded you into snapping at the dragoon, Estinien responded.

“You don’t understand!” The dragoon gave a guttural cry of agony, falling to his knees before you.

The sudden vulnerability he presented to you was strange, unnerving. You found yourself taking a step back, and then another, frowning at him. What was he doing, displaying weakness to you, who he had all but verbally attacked only a day ago? Perhaps two, if he had woken you up later in the night.

When he looked up into your eyes, pleading written all over his face, your confusion washed away. It was strange you had it in the first place. Those entreating silvery eyes, begging you to understand him, dry of tears that Estinien had long ago shed himself of.

He was your friend. Of course he could show you his weakness. That’s what you did with friends, you told them your troubles and worries and they smiled and gave you cocoa and made you feel better.

Estinien wasn’t a great friend, maybe. But he needed you. A friend in need… Well, you knew how that ended. You didn’t want Estinien to be your enemy, you didn’t want to alienate him. It was still possible to make him understand your position on things. It might still be possible to get him to…

_What do we want from him, hm? Forgiveness for the crime of not being a self-sacrificing, suffering saint? Forgiveness for wanting people to be able to save themselves? You want him to stab you like in the dream, some righteous punishment, is that it? What is the point of even talking to someone who holds us responsible for everything?_

No. Fray should already know what you wanted to do here.

“I do understand,” you said quietly, kneeling to sit beside him, “I do. I would have done anything, _anything,_ to slay Zephrin after what he did to Haurchefant.”

His eyes widened, surprised to see you speaking about him, no doubt.

“He speaks to me still.” His voice was quiet and small and so very much unlike him. “He speaks to me still. I cannot help but hear him.”

 _How familiar._ You nearly tsked aloud at Fray. Estinien would have taken that well, you were sure. _Oh, get on with it. It was obvious from the beginning. You – **we** are so pathetic. Even after all the venom he spat at us the other night, you still want to help him. Warrior of Light indeed._

Whatever Fray was trying to say, it wasn’t a discouragement. You were self-deprecating, but your darkside cared just as much as you did. Otherwise Fray would not be so upset by Estinien’s behavior.

“I know it’s hard. Nidhogg is gone from you, but he’d been a part of you for so long.”

Estinien scoffed, more at himself than you, “In more ways than one. You cannot imagine how it is, hearing him, knowing his legacy continues.”

“I hear,” You said the words in a louder voice, “I hear a lot of things. Some of them are better than Nidhogg, some of them…”

 _Oh, go on,_ Fray said, sardonic but otherwise free of malice. _I won’t be offended. You know what I am, and you accepted me. That’s all that matters._

“Some of them worse.” You expected Estinien to scoff at that, too, but he did not. His lips turned down into a frown, and that was all. “The worst voice of all is my own. And the worst things it says, are the things I can imagine myself saying. It’s hard, but I don’t let it rule my life.”

“Oh, you do not let it rule you, you say?” Estinien’s voice grew bitter and mocking, “What of you, then? ‘I don’t want to be a hero anymore,’ you said. ‘I can’t even live my life,’ you said. The heroism you let rule your life did far more – it destroyed also your desire to be a hero, your compassion for others, the Warrior of Light that you’d become. It consumed you, as vengeance had consumed me.”

Fray might normally have been angry at that. But it was obvious who the mockery in Estinien’s voice was meant for.

“Maybe it did. Maybe I should have stopped being a hero when I started to hate it, maybe I should have stopped and tried to find some happiness somewhere else, but.” You leaned in towards Estinien’s face, so that it was hard for him to avoid your eyes. “It’s not like people wouldn’t have died then, either. All I can do is try to fix things, right here and now.”

“Did you not think it worth saying to us? To your… friends?” The words came from him with difficulty, as though he had to wrench them from his throat.

Your response came no easier. “I… I stopped seeing you as friends a long time ago.” Your confession was as quiet as it was heartfelt. “You and Alphinaud and the rest of the Scions, all we have done is work together, I never got a chance to live my life with any of you, do things that I enjoyed. It was only...”

Estinien knew without you saying of whom you spoke. It was only Haurchefant who had cared for your comfort, for your happiness and peace of mind. He had been consumed with his wretched vengeance, and the others… well, Alphinaud was young, with great burdens upon him, and many of the others were worrying for their lives.

But that made it no easier for you to bear all those burdens, did it? And he had dared to speak to you of duty, after failing you as a friend. Your next words don’t surprise him, and he hadn’t expected them to.

“Every time I met with any of you, it was to kill some new primal, or slay your enemies, or settle some or another conflict that involved me fighting for you. We were always fighting for something, always trying to save the world, there was always so much at stake, and, and I just.”

He choked out a humorless laugh, which stopped you.

“You stopped seeing us as friends, because we have not been friends to you.” Estinien straightened, finally, and stood to look you in the eyes. “I have least of all the right to say this, after what I said to you… and after how much of it I meant. But I am sorry.”

Somehow that does not anger you. Not with Estinien stretching up to his full height, brushing off his armor as he did.

 _We’ve spent too long around Zenos,_ Fray told you. _We’ve spent far too long around him… Estinien falls before us to his knees, and all we see is weakness? All this time, he – he hasn’t really been angry at **us**. None of it has been about us._

Fray was surprisingly compassionate sometimes. Perhaps it was because Estinien had been willing to sacrifice his life to kill Nidhogg, perhaps because you’d both watched the man warp and change into someone more and more hateful and obsessed during your journey, only to finally realize and understand his mistakes at the end.

“When I believed I should die,” Estinien said, looking you straight in the eyes, “In my greatest hour of need, ‘twas my friends who saved me. Gave me a new chance at life. Have you – have you no friends at all left in Eorzea? Truly?”

You shook your head wordlessly.

“I should have expected as much. I would say sorry for that too, but,” he laid a hand on the back of his neck, “You know me enough that you would see my insincerity.”

That got a laugh out of you. “I… forgive you, Estinien. We all have our struggles, our pains, and they shape our lives. I wouldn’t begrudge you now of all times, since you with to move past them.”

“’Twould seem I still have a friend in you, at least.” You couldn’t help but return his wry smile.

 _All heartwarming words, to be sure. Wonderful. But,_ Fray’s tone became deathly serious, _Why did he bring up Nidhogg? Why is ‘Nidhogg’ the reason Estinien is here?_

 

 

Beyond the notice of either of you, a certain early riser, one who did not sleep as much ordinary people, had come to pass by the quarters of his erstwhile enemy. Through the Resonance, which he had been training the use of, he’d sensed another presence in your rooms upon an earlier night.

Zenos had generously allowed you opportunities to mention this visitor, if it had anything to do with Aulus’s attacker.

Hm. It was a person after all – and from the sounds of it, one of your former allies. Although this man obviously didn’t consider you a _former_ ally. He hadn’t heard much, but it was clear enough for him to make out words, now that he was closer to your room.

Well, this wasn’t necessarily a violation of your agreement, if you had ensured this person hadn’t been responsible for what happened to Aulus. Your deal had been to come with him to Garlemald, not to forsake all your friends in Eorzea. Other judgements, he would have to wait to make, until you had finished your conversation.

Interrupting you would only stop him from hearing the answers he wanted. You’d been so infuriated about that – that Haurchefant’s death, and you had claimed it was because you were his ‘friend’. How fortunate he was to have you and a ‘friend’ conversing before him, right here and now.

He kept his presence well concealed – easy enough for a Garlean with no magical powers that could be sensed. Unlike your friend, who radiated a strange aura, filled with bloodthirst and seething anger, such a fine feast for his new senses.

 

 

“What,” You asked finally, dread creeping up your back. “What about Nidhogg? Why are you here, Estinien?”

The answer you thought you already knew. But maybe you were wrong…

Estinien’s smile faded, his stance solidifying. A soldier’s posture painted all over his shoulders.

Please, please, you wanted to be wrong…

“Shinryu.”

You blinked. It was silly, absurd that this would be the first thing that came to your mind, but –

“An _Aetheryte?!_ You’ve been using the primal as a personal _Aetheryte_?! And you are able to teleport to it?!”

Estinien shrugged at your onslaught. “I am already attuned to Nidhogg, and the creature is being held nearby. I would liken it to the Aetherytes within a city, more than anything else.”

“Hasn’t he been sealed away? Papalymo gave his life to stop Shinryu!” Your voice was getting higher and higher.

“Of course it would not disrupt the seals. How do you think I found the creature? I had only been able to teleport into Ala Mhigo and to the primal once I’d gotten just outside the city.”

You… you had to pause for a moment. _So in addition to being supposedly defenseless without us, our old allies are also **total idiots.**_

To be fair, you and Alphinaud had thrown the Eyes of Nidhogg in the chasm together. Aymeric had admitted it wasn’t a great idea, but he had good reason to believe the Eyes would be completely unreachable there. From what you’d heard, no living thing in the world could survive those conditions.

A frown crept up your face.

No. Living thing.

You had encountered an outright absurd number of non-living people in recent history. Well, it would have been absurd if you hadn’t been the Warrior of Light. If you thought back to those you’d met around the time you defeated Nidhogg, the answer seemed clear. _The Warriors of Darkness? Really?_

They had to have been summoned for _something_ other than just harassing you and killing some primals. You would have killed those primals anyways, and if the Ascians knew about the abilities the Warriors of Darkness possessed, surely they wouldn’t be so foolish as to bring them into this world.

“Shinryu and Nidhogg are connected, are they not?” Like before, you already knew the answer.

“The Dread Wyrm’s hate courses strong through that wretched monster.” His voice was cold and hard. “Stronger still in that primal. Nidhogg’s eyes were used to summon the creature, just as one had been used to summon Thordan.”

It was news to you that some essence of Nidhogg had survived in the summoned primal. As for everything else, you had already known. _In retrospect, I suppose it does make some sense that Estinien would come seeking the creature. He held onto the Eyes for so long..._

Neither of you needed to state the obvious. Shinryu had a power on par with the Bahamut that had caused the Calamity – a primal, fed not only by the power of Nidhogg’s eyes, but also by the desperate hatred of the Ala Mhigans. A primal so strong even that ancient Allagan device had not been able to destroy it.

If the creature got loose, and it was truly on this ship – every person present would die. You could get out, probably Zenos would be fine – you could not imagine him drowning at sea – but everyone else on the airships – no. Every person in the entire fleet of airships, the one you were on and the surrounding ones, everyone would die.

“Where is Lucia?” You demanded, in a tone that brooked no argument.

Estinien nearly challenged you then and there but thought better of it. Discreetly, he made to activate the linkpearl Lucia had given to him. Still, it was dead.

“Seven hells,” He swore, and you gave him a pointed look. Estinien almost envied your straight face.

As was his luck with this nonsense, Aymeric contacted him on the _other_ linkpearl that very moment. The same linkpearl Estinien had told him to use only in dire situations. He had probably been asking for it, having called Aymeric with it after he and Lucia got on the ship. But after he’d found out that you were here, and not unwillingly.

He hadn’t been able to touch either of the linkpearls since. Knowing the one he had used with Lucia was dead, he had forgotten Aymeric’s linkpearl. After the way he left Ishgard, the pearl had almost entirely slipped Estinien’s mind, only coming back up when he and Lucia had snuck onto the Imperial airship.

Estinien swore again, refusing to meet your eyes. For all the good it would do him.

“Estinien?” Aymeric’s voice said over the linkpearl. You wouldn’t be able to hear it, at least –

Your widened eyes told Estinien that you _had_ heard it. He may as well throw himself into the sea already what with how his luck was going. No one would ever find the body.

“Estinien! Answer me, are you and Lucia in danger? Should I send someone to help?”

“No!” Estinien grunts out. “No, I am here. As is…”

At once your face paled; he took a small bit of perverse joy in that. Even though he shouldn’t have. Even though he had said sorry, even though he had thought to himself that what he had done was wrong –

“As is your missing Warrior of Light.”

Halone forgive him, though he did not deserve it. Estinien did not delude himself; his wish for your return was selfish. If you could be convinced to return at all, Aymeric was the one who could do it. And if not, Estinien could rest easy knowing he had done everything he could to bring you home.

Home to Ishgard. Whether you knew it or not, there were still those there who cared for you. There were still people in that city, people better than him, who would do anything to make you happy. After all, you had saved them.

“The Warrior of – how did that happen? Estinien, is the Warrior well, or–”

You glared at Estinien, hard.

“Better than that. The Warrior of Light is just here, if you wish to speak…?” Estinien held the linkpearl out to you.

 _Bastard!_ Where was this coming from, all the sudden? The last night he was determined to decry you as a traitor, and _now_ he wanted you to talk to Aymeric? Why hadn’t he done anything before?

“The Warrior – the Warrior is with you right now? Alphinaud, please–”

There were sounds, a struggle on the other side. Estinien’s hand, waiting, outstretched, still just in front of you. _Time to cross the bloody bridge,_ Fray griped.  

You picked the pearl up quickly and put it in your ear. The best thing to do would be to explain your intention. Do it fast, give him no time to protest, and let them all think of it what they would.

“Zenos yae Galvus agreed to return to Garlemald with the Twelfth Legion, on the condition I come with him. I do not know if I will return. Do not expect me to. Nothing you can say or do will change that.”

Taking the linkpearl out of your ear, you threw it at Estinien, shutting out the noises of confusion and argument on the other side. You were sure they heard you, which meant they knew all they needed to know. The Warrior of Light was going to Garlemald and no one should expect you to be back.

Lips thinning with frustration, you tried to breathe deeply. There was nothing more you could say. Whatever their protests were, you would not be moved by then. You’d made your decision.

 _Now that is what I call resolve,_ Fray said, brimming with a rare approval.

More and more shouts, some overlapping others, some that seemed frighteningly familiar – were the leaders of the Eorzean Alliance _all there?_ It made no difference. Actually, this was better. Hopefully they would make better decisions based on that.

Or not.

Estinien held the linkpearl out right back, shoving it in your face. You glared at the cacophony coming from the small device.

“Unwilling to return? Then you will tell them yourself.” Estinien said, his eyes hard as steel.

He had his trials to endure and his burdens to bear, and you had yours. If you truly meant what you had said, this was something you had to face. He would take the shame of hurting you upon himself gladly.

Perhaps Nidhogg really was getting to him, making him as poisonous and cruel as he had before.

 _Of course it isn’t that easy. It can never be easy for us, can it?_ Fray’s bitterness was barely noticeable to you. Your darkside was born with bitterness, after all.

Snapping the pearl out of Estinien’s hands and putting it back to your ear, you concentrate on the first meaningful sentence you hear.

“What is going on over there? The imperials withdrew as a part of an agreement?” That was Alphinaud, all right.

It was nice to see him thinking of the tactics, looking at the situation rationally. In the background you heard Lyse tell him a hurried, “What about the Warrior, Alphinaud? Ask if-” before you spoke up for yourself.

“Yes, there was an agreement. Zenos offered to withdraw his forces if I went with him to Garlemald, and I agreed. As I said, I don’t know if I’ll return; the situation here is…” You searched for an appropriate word to describe it. There was none. “Hard to read.”

“Hard to read? Are you – are you and Estinien okay? Did Zenos imprison you, or can you not Return or Teleport back?” Alphinaud fired questions at you rapidly, one after another. Trying to think of a way to get you out of this, no doubt.

“I could, but I will not. Alphinaud, I told you, I agreed to this. Zenos is upholding his end of the agreement, isn’t he? Imperial forces have all withdrawn from Ala Mhigo.”

_I suppose this will tell us how honest they’re willing to be. In their situation they should be desperate to have us back, and this would make a perfect excuse. But we know better, don’t we?_

Zenos was many things, but he was not a liar. If it weren’t obvious enough by the fleet accompanying the airship, and Asahi’s rendezvous, a massive amount of Garlean forces were returning to Garlemald at Zenos’s command.

“Yes, they have.” You heard Lyse in the background, piping up about something, “The Skulls and some other native forces that have been fighting for Garlemald are still here, some of them are still giving us trouble. But the Garleans have left.”

 _Alphinaud is smart. He knows if he lied to us, we would discover it when we returned and there were no Garleans there._ Cynical, Fray. Very cynical. _Thank you. I try._

“Then all is well. I wish you all the best, truly.”

Sensing the tone of this goodbye, Alisaie hurried to interject, “You don’t need to do this. We will fight for you, Warrior! There is no need to sacrifice yourself–”

_Time to cross the bloody bridge._

“I want to.”

On the other end, silence.

“I came with Zenos because I didn’t want to be your Warrior of Light anymore, I didn’t want to be your hero. You need to be your own heroes, now.”

“But… but if a primal emerges, if something else-”

“Better question!” You interrupted Alphinaud, and the loudness of your own voice surprising you. “What if I died?”

You hear a few gasps on the other end. Some soft murmurs of ‘ _What’ –_ you think that’s Nanamo’s voice, or the Elder Seedseer. The Alliance leaders had actually all gathered to listen to Aymeric’s contact with Estinien?

_Well, Lucia’s mission is likely an important one. They all must want to know what’s happened to Shinryu, as well._

“You? Die?”

It hurts like a spear to the chest to hear that from Alphinaud. You always knew that he had looked up to you, idolized you. This was just more evidence you didn’t need, more proof…

_We’re not a person to him. We’re not a person to any of them. We’re a living legend, their own personal god-slaying machine. Their hero on call._

Hush, Fray.

“Don’t you remember my first encounter with Zenos?” The words came out harsher than you meant them, remembering that defeat. “He could have killed me then. And when I encountered him the second time. And he could have killed me when we stormed Ala Mhigo, perhaps. What would you have done then?”

“I – that doesn’t mean you should have to leave! That doesn’t mean anything, that – why? What did I – what did we _do_ to deserve-”

If Estinien expected you to choke up again, he had another thing coming. You barked out a short laugh, and the sound of it stopped Alphinaud’s words in his tracks.

“What did you do to deserve the Calamity, to deserve Bahamut?” You paused when you heard Alisaie whisper something indistinguishable in the background. “What did I do to deserve Hydaelyn’s Blessing, to be sent to fight and die before every single thing that threatens everyone, ever? Life doesn’t care about what you deserve. If you think something is wrong with the world, you have to fix it yourself.”

“That is not-”

Alphinaud was cut off by the noise of someone wrenching the linkpearl away from him. A wry smile crept up your face; you could only imagine the frustration poor diplomatic Alphinaud was experiencing, being interrupted so much. Diplomacy wouldn’t get him anywhere, now. Not with you.

“You don’t want to be a hero anymore?” Alisaie’s voice asked you.

 _Is it danger or sadness in her voice, I wonder?_ You really couldn’t tell. But as for the answer to her question.

“I’m not sure what I want, Alisaie.” You answered, pouring sincerity into your voice. “I just know it isn’t in Eorzea. I’ve spent my whole life being the self-sacrificing hero who does everything you ask me to do.”

“I…” When Alisaie pauses for words you can hear Alphinaud whispering in the background – ‘Doesn’t know what… I never though, never expected…’ – he always had been the thinker. “Everything we asked you to do? You mean to say that you feel as though we have asked too much of you. That you do not want to come back, _to us._ ”

“I don’t hate you, Alisaie. Or Alphinaud, or any of you. I bear no malice towards any of you, otherwise why would I have made the deal to have the Empire leave? I just. I can’t stay.”

“So we do ask too much of you.” This time it was Raubhan’s voice. Hard and tired and heavy with something you can’t quite name.

 _Why should his heart be heavy? His war is over. He doesn’t need to fight anymore; his home is free._ You hold back a sigh that you hope won’t be audible to the other side.

“You do.” You said. _No kind platitudes. Just tell the truth._

There were some noises of outrage on the other side, mostly from the other leaders. You couldn’t blame them. Notably, Aymeric and Hien didn’t make any noise. As well they shouldn’t, not after all you’d done for them. After all you’d done for them, to hear them demanding more from you would just be…

 _It would break your heart, you pathetic creature._ Fray was also not one for kind platitudes, even if the person your darkside spoke to was yourself.

“So you leave, join the Empire, is that it?” Raubhan’s tone sharpened with anger. You didn’t care to deal with it.

“I haven’t agreed to do anything but go to Garlemald.”

“With the Crown Prince!” Alphinaud shouted.

_We decided not to placate them. Hold nothing back._

“When Zenos reached out to me, and asked me to leave with him, I… I realized. I’ve done enough. For Eorzea and Ala Mhigo and Doma – I never owed any of you anything in the first place.”

“That’s-“ “How dare!” “Warrior, please, we would-” “People’s lives-”

The linkpearl on the other side had fallen to the ground, it seemed.

“Please understand. I am doing what I can to protect you, the way I think is best. It’s not right and not safe for you all to rely on me forever. For me, and for the world.”

More arguments, shouting amongst themselves. It was Alisaie who shouted over them, made herself heard.

“Silence!” It fell immediately. You wondered what sort of angry gestures and posturing had accompanied Alisaie’s declaration. It almost made you want to smile.

“Shame on you, shame on all of you! This is our Warrior of Light,” Your heart clenched at the title, but, “This is our _friend!_ The one person who brought all of us together, the one person who has helped each and every one of us in our hour of need.”

“The one person who can safely battle the primals-” Merylwb, was it? She always was the most demanding of them. Grateful, yes, but also strained under the pressure of running a city one step above outright anarchy. Unable to hold back and reign in the conflicts between Spoken races and beast tribes.

“We have fought primals before, you should know well.” Was that _Thancred?_

You swallowed thickly. It made sense that the Scions were all there. Thancred, Y’shtola, Lyse, probably even Krile…

“The Scions may be fewer now, but have our nations not all united? We can all work together to combat this threat, support the remaining Scions in their efforts.” Aymeric’s strong, reassuring voice, heavy with the weight of leadership, was easy to recognize.

“He speaks true. There art still among us gifted ones, who might fight as the Warrior of Light once did.”

Ah, yes. Where Alisaie and Alphinaud were, Urianger could not be far behind. You’d forgotten his ancient manner of speech, having not heard it in some time.

“I’m glad you understand. There’s nothing more to say – the longer Estinien and Lucia stay on this ship, the more danger they will be in. The last advice I have for you all is to withdraw them,” You gave Estinien a pointed look, “And avoid any further confrontation with Garlemald. I don’t expect the Empire will come after you any time soon. Good luck.”

More voices speak up, clearly some of them have more to say, but this time there was really nothing else. What more did you have to say? Goodbye? Sorry for leaving the Alliance and everyone you’d ever known to fight for themselves?

You weren’t sorry, you didn’t regret this. Leaving was for the best. And saying a goodbye… _That would only hurt you more._

Sometimes you wondered if Fray was really right all the time, or if your darkside just voiced your inner thoughts and expected to be praised for it. _Shut up._ Regardless, you turned off the linkpearl, ending the conversation as definitively as possible.

Before you shove it back into Estinien’s hands – he stood still across from you, listening with uncharacteristic raptness – you step forwards, arms crossed, and asked a question that had been bothering you.

“If you had this all along, why didn’t you just contact Aymeric and the others earlier? When you were trying to convince me to come back?”

Estinien was silent, as he had been. Staring at you.

“Well? Answer me!”

Silent, again.

You took a step forward, and then another, until you were close enough to touch. When he didn’t react to that, you shoved him backwards. With uncharacteristic clumsiness, Estinien stumbled backwards, lifting his arms to steady himself.

When he regained his footing he looked up at you.

“I had not thought to find you here.” Estinien’s voice whispered. “I thought of Aymeric for but a moment, that he would… he would have spoken to you better. But back when Lucia’s linkpearl stopped working, I altogether dismissed the things-”

“Lucia’s linkpearl – Estinien, when was the last time you spoke with her?” You said, your voice gaining speed with every word.

You should have said something to her when you’d – no, Asahi had been there, it would have given her away. _No. No! We’re fools, damn it! Lucia is a spy, Garlemald knows she’s a spy. It wouldn’t have been strange at all for her to speak to us, for us to recognize her._

It wouldn't have been strange, if the entire airship hadn’t been on high alert. They were still searching for Aulus' attacker, who hadn't yet been found. Drawing any kind of attention to Lucia - and potentially Estinien by proxy - was bound to end badly.

Lucia hadn’t been responsible, though. She couldn’t have been. She was here for diplomatic reasons, _She’s a spy, you fool. What kind of diplomatic reasons,_ even so, why would she have hurt Aulus?

 _Perhaps their research into the Echo had been too much after all._ With the power of the Resonance you’d seen so far, it was possible. But to send Lucia to assassinate Aulus? That didn’t sound like something Aymeric would ever think of. It didn’t sound like something Lucia would have come up with, either.

But if that was the case, then… who had done it?

“Before I saw you.” Estinien’s answer felt almost like an afterthought. Then he said something more. “You must protect her, use your influence, get her off this ship if need be.”

_Use our influence? Ah, perfect. If only we had thought of that before, when we were worried about keeping their existence a secret. We just need to use our influence. Who does Estinien think he's talking to, exactly?_

The invincible Warrior of Light, you thought sourly. It didn't surprise you that Estinien thought you would be able to solve every problem that came his and Lucia's way, but it did annoy you. 

“What is it you think I can do?” You hissed, and Estinien returned the sentiment with a glare.

“Are not you and the Crown Prince friends? Cannot you entreat him to show mercy to Lucia, or plead her case before him?”

You barely held back a laugh, “Entreat him? Zenos isn’t–”

_Zenos isn’t a Prince. He’s not even a person. He’s a living force of nature, the embodiment of the thrill of battle._

He did what he wanted, holding nothing in reserve, and it was as far beyond your control as the weather. You could no more ‘entreat’ Zenos to do something than you could entreat the rain to fall, or the stars to stop shining.

You couldn’t say you completely understood him, but even if you did, what would it change? Zenos wasn’t like a normal person who could be convinced or persuaded to consider your point of view. Even if you could fight him, he was an enemy unlike any you’d ever met. He was unstoppable and invincible, so far beyond mortal men he may as well be a primal himself.

_What a pleasant thought._

“Zenos isn’t someone who cares what other people think. The only reason he’d respect my opinion would be if I fought him for it.” You pursed your lips, thinking back to the unanswered challenge between you and him. “I can try to get him to… discuss it with me. But if it comes to force, there’s nothing I can do.”

“What?” Estinien’s shock was both heartwarming and frustrating all at once. He thought you were all powerful, which was sweet of him, but did he know nothing at all of the Crown Prince of Garlemald?

“I can fight him,” You clarified, “But not without downing the entire airship. If we were fighting seriously there’s no way this ship would come out intact.”

Estinien repressed a shudder. The Warrior of Light led a hard life indeed. What impossible powers did you possess, did _Zenos_ possess, that a great Garlean flagship would be destroyed as a result of your clashing wills? He was far over his head, he had always been over his head. Nidhogg could never have been slain by the poor pitiful boy he had been.

And neither could the Great Wyrm been slain by the hateful, bitter man he’d become. But still, Estinien had walked among gods such as you and Nidhogg and Hraesvelgr. And now this Prince who appeared to be just as powerful as you.

Such a thing he would have thought impossible.

 

 

 

“Yes, I see now why His Radiance sent this missive to me. It is fortunate indeed that I am in a position to watch the Warrior of Light.” Asahi said, nodding to Lucia. “You may go.”

Lucia returned the nod silently, but Asahi spoke up again before she left.

“Ah, and my congratulations on your service. This would not be possible without you.”

The spy before him saluted and left. Smiling politely after her, his eyes followed the woman as she left the room, never straying for a moment.

Congratulations, indeed. So many years of service she had dedicated to ensuring she had the trust of the Eorzean savages; it was quite remarkable. Had the Emperor himself not granted such a dispensation, Asahi would have been quite suspicious.

He was still suspicious.

Asahi took a deep breath, taking his gaze off the now closed door. He had hoped that he could learn Lord Zenos’s plans and perhaps keep some information from Emperor Varis soz Galvus, but that was now a lost cause. Someone had told the Emperor about the primal on the airship, and about how it had been sealed.

And now the Emperor wanted _Asahi_ of all people to keep watch on it. Perhaps the Emperor knew Asahi’s loyalty to his son, and that he would not let the information leak. But keeping the eikon a secret was pointless at this point. There was no way it could remain so, now that so many knew already.

That might not even be the problem; with the eikon sealed, an argument could be made that Lord Zenos was simply keeping it for research. He could hardly be expected to let the creature loose from its prison. Still, there were plenty of reasons not to allow the eikon's existence and imprisoned state to become common knowledge.

He was no fool. Asahi knew that the Emperor would know his son, at least well enough to suspect that Lord Zenos did not capture the eikon for… entirely benign purposes. The Prince’s power was well known to all within Garlemald, and the Emperor would question Lord Zenos’s decision not to try and kill the eikon.

To say the least of the close eye the Emperor had commanded him to keep on _you._ It was not so unreasonable, especially when, if his sources were to be believed, the Prince had actually exchanged the Empire’s withdrawal for your cooperation. It would make sense that the Emperor would want to know more about the potential political alignment and threat you posed to him.

His tongue darted between his lips to wet them. A close game he played indeed, caught between the Emperor and Crown Prince, and you, the Eikon Slayer whom they both respected. As a potential ally and a threat – well, the Emperor saw you as a potential threat. He knew, of course, where his loyalties laid, but it made his situation no less precarious.

More dangerous still because he had not yet earned his Lord's confidences. He trusted you more than he trusted Asahi. Lord Zenos… Lord Zenos did not seem to care even remotely if you threatened him or not. He appeared satisfied with your interactions with him either way.

Lucia must have told him about Asahi’s most recent assignment as your entourage. Asahi frowned. No, Lucia was most likely the one who had told the Emperor about him becoming your attaché, but…

But not about the eikon. If Lucia had known about the eikon, she would have told him far sooner. Asahi’s information suggested that Lucia had defected perhaps a week ago, just before the withdrawal from Ala Mhigo.

If she had known and withheld the information from the Emperor, she would be killed the instant anyone discovered the betrayal. As a former spy, she was already under acute supervision. Lucia either did not know about the eikon, or she had been told only recently.

Either way, she was not a player in this game. He knew what that meant. There had been a breach in the ranks. Someone close to Lord Zenos who knew the secret of the captured eikon had leaked it to the Emperor. Or to the Emperor’s informant. Lucia might have been the one who told the Emperor, but she couldn’t have been the one who originally discovered the secret.

From what Asahi had discovered, Lord Zenos’s methods of ensuring the eikon was not discovered were truly effective. He would have expected nothing less from the Crown Prince; Lord Zenos was a renowned tactician, after all.  Even the Alliance that Lucia was formerly allied with didn’t know that the eikon was here.

Which left the scientist, Aulus, and anyone else who’d been involved in Shinryu’s transport from Ala Mhigo to… Asahi swallowed. To the airship you were all on right now.

Where it waited. Sealed.

By some savage’s magic that had been used against Bahamut ages ago, during Garlemald’s earlier invasion. That magical seal was all that kept the eikon from tearing this ship apart, stranding everyone here at sea.

A rescue would come when the fleet failed to communicate with the homeland, of course, but that would take time. Asahi had heard about some of the details surrounding the eikon’s summoning. If that _thing_ broke out, it wouldn’t leave anyone behind for a search party to collect.

Even Lord Zenos was still a mortal man. He could not fight the eikon without at least proper grounds to do battle upon. Perhaps you had a chance, being the Eikon Slayer, but you didn’t even know the eikon was here.

That just may have been the Emperor’s point. The missive had still mentioned the importance of keeping the eikon’s existence secret while investigating its power and containment. That much would pose a problem with his limited access to the eikon. Which was to say, he didn’t even know where it was.

Not to mention what Lord Zenos would think of such an endeavor, if he were to be caught. Even if he went to Lord Zenos with this information willingly, the Prince may not give him a chance to explain. Asahi could not think to blame his Lord for that attitude – he’d been pathetic the past few days, there was no excuse for it.

Intruding on Lord Zenos’s battlefield. Foolishly believing his Lord to be in danger, arrogantly acting as though there was something he could do about it, interrupting Lord Zenos's spar. Aggravating you, Lord Zenos’s honored guest.

It was true that your relationship with his Lord was… hard to understand, but Lord Zenos had made it quite clear that your treatment of him was to be expected. He had done nothing to earn his Lord’s respect or interest; that would come with his performance in the duty his Lord had assigned him.

If it came at all. His assignment was most likely an afterthought to someone such as Lord Zenos; it was becoming more and more clear any interest his Lord had in him was because of your desire to spare him his Lord’s wrath. Where that impulse of yours came from was a mystery to him, but he was not about to let it go to waste.

Lord Zenos had very particular tastes. The most prominent trait of yours that appealed to him, made him tolerate and even derive amusement from your attitude towards him, was your strength as a warrior. Lord Zenos had been fighting you when you first met, after all.

That was also the reason for your own personal rise to the ranks of legend. The power of the Eikon Slayer, who had killed a Legatus and repelled a Legion, liberated Doma and slain some half-dozen of the beastmen’s primitive summoned gods besides.

Asahi closed his eyes.

He needed power.

Not the ordinary sort. The kinds of which legends had spoken of, the strength that would permit him to stand alongside his Lord in battle. Spar with Lord Zenos as you had, be a part of his future as the next Emperor and leader of Garlemald. No ordinary person could be such a companion to Lord Zenos, that much was clear.

No. If he wanted his Lord’s attention, he needed to _take it._

Asahi tore the missive into pieces, carefully, then placed them away to be burned later, or cast into the ocean.

It was time to go find the eikon.

 

 

 

Far from Asahi’s room where the missive had been exchanged and looked over, Lucia walked in long strides towards the outside of the airship.

It was fortunate that everything had been caught so early.

The dragoon was a problem. The elezen may tell you about Shinryu, and he may not. Asahi was unlikely to say anything. What the volatile, half-tempered dragoon would do after that, there was no way to predict. The plan could still work if the primal broke loose before its time, but the boy would need to be in position. The move with Varis was a risk.

A door opened and closed. Lucia stood outdoors, the early morning air brushing bangs aside.

Still, between you and the primal, there might just be another chance. Nothing in Ala Mhigo had gone as expected; Zenos was a capricious creature, driven only by desire, and that made his movements hard to anticipate. But if all went well this could end in a greater still victory. If the fool’s luck held.

Lucia stood at the edge of the railing. Hands resting on the bar that separated her body from the empty air.

Everything had been put in place.

And jumped off.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just know this chapter is filled with spelling errors. There's no way it isn't.
> 
> It was very rushed, as you can see, it was also a little late. In my defense, I have been kind of busy in the past few days. I have a friend who works weekdays and likes to hang out with me during the weekends, which sometimes eats up the time I meant to be spending writing. I really have to learn to put in some work on the weekdays.
> 
> Can't say whether you guys should expect the next chapter Sunday night or not, but I will try to meet that deadline. It's Thanksgiving week, so I'll have some time off. Cancelled classes and the like, you know. But I can confidently say that most subsequent chapters should be over 5k words long, so they should be worth the wait. I'm kind of nervous about this one, though, because I really didn't know if I wanted to bring other characters into this, but in the long run I think it fits pretty well. 
> 
> The story is turning out to be very big and very long, so I wanted to cover this one base, even if I didn't do the best job of it. Really, the chapter should have been longer, but I didn't want to write out some whole big confrontation over a linkpearl, because, you know. It's like having a huge scene with people over the phone. Not to mention, with multiple people on the other end of the conversation, I get really aggravated about what characters end up speaking and not speaking. It's frustrating because there's a lot of people on the other end and a lot of responses I have to cover, but I can only really pick one and the WoL is on the line with like 50 people, and I know a lot of the characters on the other end aren't super popular, etc. 
> 
> But enough of my struggles. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, there is for sure more to come, hopefully, better crafted as well!


	14. The calm

You had been summoned back.

Zenos was no fool. It was easy to fill the gaps between the parts of the conversation he’d heard, and what he hadn’t. The person you’d been talking to – ‘Estinien’, was it? And it had seemed that you’d spoken to others, as well, an exchange he hadn’t been able to hear, but also hadn’t needed to. The helpless fools wanted their Weapon of Light safely returned to its sheath, willing and ready for the next time they felt like drawing it.

You had seemed particularly tightly wound as of late, but you had made plain to them that their hound was not coming to heel. Finally, you understood his arguments. You _had_ never owed them anything; you had no duties but to yourself. And even that you seemed to have neglected, allowing others to use you as a tool instead of searching for your own satisfaction on the fields of battle you’d been presented with.

Battle. Power. _Challenge._ Zenos had seen more than enough of you in the past few days to know that he had made the right choice, that you desired a stage upon which to dance your heart out, and a partner who could join you in trampling the gods. A dance to which the heavens would bear witness.

That drew a laugh from him. The idea of fighting him hadn’t frightened you in the least. How you’d spoken of your former encounters with him, however, speaking so casually of your own death – indeed, ones such as you and he had no fear of dying, but neither still should you wish to hasten your own end.

No… that wasn’t quite right, was it? Your despair had been made quite clear to him in your earlier meetings. Being the hero held no joy for you anymore; he had only seen the light in your eyes stoked by the flames of battle, when you and he crossed blades or wills. Your challenge If that had been enough to return you to your full strength, you would not have said the things you had said.

After meeting him in the Abyss, it seemed you had taken his words to heart. Even as you denied Zenos to his face and fought him with an echo of your long-lost ferocity, you turned around and denied your Eorzean masters and told them to grow strong, as he had once told you. So close you were to understanding, but something held you back.

You deluded yourself into believing that you were ‘protecting’ them, that you had left for their own good. How could that possibly be so, when you had been so desperately enraged at him during a spar, when you had so confidently overwhelmed him in the Abyss? You’d been eager to fight, you’d taken joy in battle just as he had, why did you still attach yourself to this childish ideal of heroism?

Those wretches you’d left behind cared naught for your happiness, only for what use you were to them. It would seem only now they realized how unworthy they were of your service. Not that it had stopped them begging your return; the one named Estinien had apologized to you for some things he’d said.

No doubt the pitiful creature had been meeting with you when Zenos sensed him the other night, taking advantage of your one weakness that did not hinder you in battle, but rather rendered you unable to choose your battles. Appealing to your infantile ideals of responsibility, your absurd egotism that made you believe you were the only one who could do _anything_ in the face of the land’s dangers.

Perhaps that much had been true. He knew of no savages whose might even approached yours. It meant nothing either way, for if they could not defend themselves, they did not deserve to live. And your egotism was nothing compared to this ‘Estinien’, this fool who thought he could slay the eikon Zenos had captured. The man clearly had no idea what sort of being he was talking about; the raw power, the savage strength and swirling fury. It was enough that even one such as Zenos had sought new power to overcome the creature’s influence.

Still, you had trusted the intruder’s answer that he had not attacked Aulus. There was no reason for you to pretend, since you had not known he was there. But still, the question that man had asked you. _“Have you…no friends at all left in Eorzea?”_

Not for the first time, Zenos resolved he would break you of your silent habits. You must have shaken or nodded your head in response to the question – but which? The rest of your conversation, saying that you had stopped seeing the Eorzeans as your friends, would imply that the answer had been no, but…

_“I did not. **Use**. Haurchefant. He was my friend.”_

Had you any ‘friends’ left in Eorzea? A friend whose death might drive you to become once more the Warrior he sought to fight. A friend whose death might turn your eyes to fire once again, move you to rage. If you could not be stirred to fight for the thrill of it, you could be surely moved by your pride, that much Zenos knew. If you failed to protect someone close to you, as that Estinien was; your heroic ideals would cry out for vengeance, as you had in that vision of your dying friend.

_“’Twould seem I still have a friend in you, at least.”_

No… **No**. Zenos would sooner play the hero and champion the savages _himself_ than allow you to fight him for the sake of avenging this Estinien. That your great confrontation with him would be fought in the name of some who had followed you around barking that you had to listen to him and begging for you to return to your former masters – impermissible. Absolutely not.

You should fight for the joy of it, enter your battle with him for its own sake, as you so vividly displayed when last you sparred with him. You had it in you to enjoy violence for its own sake, to lose yourself in the dance of battle and focus on nothing but the pleasures you found there.

He needed only to tease out the Warrior within, separate you from the hero your former allies so desperately wished you would remain. At least now he knew of your refusal to return, despite your unfortunate reasoning. And of your relationship with the person who had been intruding.

There was also another, the conversation had indicated, a female. Lucia, was it?

It was a shame he had not been able to stay longer, but Zenos had no wish to alert you to his knowledge of the intruders aboard. Lucia struck him as a Garlean name, familiar, even – he would have a report on her drawn up; if she was indeed a citizen of Garlemald, there would be records of her.

If you had known the identity of Aulus’s attacker, would you truly have kept it from him? He considered it for a moment. Your behavior as of late certainly indicated an attachment to your former comrades, even though you’d claimed – over a linkpearl, hastily, without any discussion that he could hear – that you did not know if you would return to Eorzea at all.

Eager as you were to believe in your desertion was for the good of the people you had left, you would surely be loath to believe they had put you in a position to betray him. The thought rang strange in his mind – betray him.

You, betray him. Was such a thing even possible? He had not made clear any expectations of loyalty from you, and you had made him no promises of honesty – no.

You had.

Days ago, when Aulus had first been attacked. He had asked you for your cooperation, bearing in mind the power of your Echo. And you had said ‘yes’ – that must have been what drove you to ask Estinien if he had pushed Aulus.

But Estinien had obviously spoken to you before while on the airship. Which meant that for some time, perhaps a day or two, you had _known_ that your former friend was here, but you had not known if he had been the insurgent they were searching for. If you had known earlier that he had not attacked Aulus, you would not have asked him _today_ if he was responsible.

Zenos could not call it a betrayal, not when you and he were not quite allies. Skirting the line between hunter and prey, you were more rivals than anything else, a pair of matched blades whose worth was best tested when they struck against each other. But you had made him a promise, and you had, at least in part, broken it.

A smile lifted the corner of his lips.

He could use this. He could use this very well, if he went to great enough lengths. After all, while you clung to the title of hero and its ideals, were you not bound by such things as honor and honesty? Yes, this was a debt Zenos would be full glad to collect, or else have you admit your heroism was all for naught.

Still, to deem you a liar and treat all the things you said to him as suspect… well. That much would be unnecessary. A lie of omission was still a lie, but it was not as though you had outright denied any knowledge of the enemies aboard the airship.

There was one way to tell for certain if your intentions were sincere. If you really meant that you were abandoning Eorzea, and if you were really deluding yourself into believing that it was for some greater good. A confrontation he could share with you, untainted by the influence of others, consisting purely of your soul against his, your Echo against his Resonance.

Joy trilled through him at the thought of it – truly, the idea of being able to prize secrets from his opponent against their will was thrilling. The idea of being able to use it on you – as he had once, successfully – sent shivers of excitement through him. The Resonance was an entirely new hunting grounds, and if what had happened yesterday was to be believed, he prowess there fell in line with his performance on physical battlefields.

All that laid in his way was this… Abyss. The place in which he had met that dark version of yourself, the one who would not die no matter what. A far more engaging partner in conversation, as well; though he had hopes that you would improve on that front.

A detail sprung into his mind, one he almost dismissed. But still, even the tiniest facet of this new ability could come to be of use to him. When he had used the Resonance on you, he knew for certain that you had seen the visions alongside him, with your Echo. Your reaction could not have made it any clearer.

After your encounter with him in the Abyss, things had gotten different. You had admitted to seeing the scenes of the Resonance together but denied seeing what took place afterwards. You claimed that after he had activated the Resonance fully, his eyes glowing with that transcendent power, you watched him fall back into the chair and not move until he woke.

He first believed that you had not experienced what happened in the Abyss, as you claimed. No signs of exertion or pain on you from your clash with him within that dark place. No, you were being honest when you had said that. However…

_“…that Warrior I fought in the Abyss…”_

When he brought the encounter up, later in the conversation, you hadn’t seemed fazed by it at all. Zenos had not tasted even a hint of confusion from you about it.

Had you lied? Or was there some other force at work? Had it not been you personally within the Abyss, it must have been some apparition that took your visage for itself… No. No, it _had_ been you, he would _know_ you when he saw you. But you had seemed to thoroughly unaffected by what had happened there. Circles within circles.

He smiled to himself. This was shaping out to be interesting indeed. Well worth the trouble of his outstretched hand and offer of retreat.

How to approach this new battlefield? It would be a waste of time to try again only to be sent to the Abyss; that was one field upon which he was yet unable to best you.

_You would not try._

Zenos heaved a great sigh, pinching his nose with his fingertips. Truly, he had never been so frustrated with anything else in his life. Every other endeavor came to him easily, every opportunity to learn and grow stronger had been provided to him and he had seized them all with fervor. But this _Abyss_ tried his patience beyond anything he had ever known.

Rarely were the things which interested him easy for him to understand. But he had not subjugated Doma by fighting in places where it made no difference. Until he knew what it was that made you so undefeatable, it would be foolhardy to fight you there.

He had neither the wish nor the inclination to revisit that particular arena. It was plain to him what the outcome would be if he did. Thusly, he needed a way to prevent you from entering the Abyss.

The easiest thing to do might be to simply challenge you to duel your Echo against his Resonance without it. Stop you from entering the Abyss by having you swear off it willingly. With the right provocation, he was sure you would be willing to handicap yourself. Now that he knew what you feared – his discovery of your former allies aboard the airship – he may yet be able to use that knowledge

The fire he’d seen in your eyes, battle-weary though you may be, was still easy to spark for some things. As clear as the sun on the hot Ala Mhigan days, Zenos could see your pride as a warrior and as _the_ Warrior of Light were well entwined. It would take him ages to wrench one from the other, but perhaps the first step could be goading you into battle without relying on the power you possessed that he did not.

He wished not to reveal his knowledge of the intruders until absolutely necessary, but if he was unable to convince you to fight the way he wanted you to, it would suffice as a last resort.

Somehow it still bothered him. _Frustrated_ him. You had claimed to your former comrades that what you were doing was to protect them, it was for their own safety – and just after you had been so close! You had told them outright, you owed them _nothing,_ but still thereafter said your efforts were for _their protection –_

You had claimed that when he reached out to you, it was them that you thought of, even if your thoughts were that you bore no responsibility towards them.

And the way you had spoken of yourself, of your truest urges. The worst voice you heard was your own, saying things you could imagine yourself saying; it disgusted him to the core that you could be _afraid_ of that, that you could dislike or even dismiss such an expression of your basest desires. You should be listening to that voice, fulfilling your own will –

Zenos blinked.

When he had been in the Abyss with you, you had realized instantly that he was hearing a voice, despite that only he seemed to detect it. You had made some inscrutable remark about how it was his own voice – even when you weren’t stoically silent, you found ways to puzzle him – and promptly told him that the “Warrior of Light” had often regretted listening to you.

You had recognized what was happening to him so fast – suspiciously so. You had known what he was hearing because it had happened to you, as well. A voice spoke to you from inside the Abyss, and perhaps that voice was what spoke to him while taking your form. The same voice that you had feared hearing. _“It is your own voice,”_ you had said to him inside the Abyss.

Indeed, indeed; you were not an easy person to understand. But how could he not, when you were so much like him? He too had not liked the voice he’d heard there, though his feelings did not run so fearful or hateful as yours had seemed to. What had your voice said, to made you dislike it so? And if what he had heard in the Abyss was the same

Brows furrowed in consternation, Zenos reached over to his sheath and flicked a switch to spin it. The sound of the blades rotating through the mechanical device filled the room with a low hum. If any stood outside, they would be quite unnerved by the sound. Zenos, of course, did not care.

The spinning droned for a moment and slowly lowered, clicking away at longer and longer intervals, the sounds of the swords balancing into their proper places providing a satisfying _chink!_ every so often until it finally came to a stop.

At the final click Zenos released a breath, then raised his eyes.

All this theorizing was well and good, it was certainly fun to have such a mystery to ponder. However, Zenos thought as his smile widened into a wicked grin that bared his teeth, there was only one way to truly confirm his ideas. To know what was happening inside your mind and fix your misaligned judgments.

It was time to fight again.

 

 

 

After getting Estinien out of your room you wondered belatedly if it was worth it to try to go back to sleep. A glance out your door, towards the end of the corridor confirmed it was light outside, and soldiers patrolled to and fro across the various areas. Hopefully Estinien was as good at avoiding Imperial patrols as he was at avoiding everyone else in his life.

 _Whenever I am tempted to despair of you, it’s little things like that which reassure me. We are one._ One sarcastic bastard, maybe. Besides, you would only ever say such things about Estinien in your thoughts; you weren’t about to attack him out loud for it, no matter how he treated you.

_A shame, that._

It really wasn’t, you thought as you wandered over to your bed and sat down on it. At least Estinien right now had been willing to talk to you. He’d been quite relieved when you told him you had seen Lucia and hopefully he could go another night without doing anything foolish to search for her. You would have to get to the bottom of this, at least subtly.

Whatever the risk was to Lucia if you drew suspicion to her was much less of a risk than if Estinien was discovered. It would be easy to confirm that Estinien was from Ishgard, and since they’d sent Lucia to spy there the connection would be easy to make. With the entire airship on alert because of what happened to Aulus there was no doubt the two would be imprisoned, maybe even worse. When the Garleans had captured Minfilia and the others, you hadn’t exactly recovered them in perfect condition.

 _If Zenos doesn’t feel like trying out his new Resonance on them…_ Fray’s worries compounded your own.

Such a thing could be rightly horrifying for them, having their mind and memories examined, especially when you were not entirely sure what else the Resonance could do to them. Otherwise, however, there was no sensitive information you could think of that Zenos could extract from Lucia or Estinien’s minds.

There may be some of Ishgard’s military movements or internal workings, but the city-state was far away from any Garlean machinations. And the Garleans would have to go through Ala Mhigo, first. The knowledge of Shinryu… That may be a problem. It was completely possible, likely even, that Zenos had not felt the need to tell his superiors-

 _Zenos, superiors._ You shared Fray’s incredulity, but at the very least the Emperor was above Zenos in rank. There may very well not be anyone else, which would explain why he could make the decision to keep the captured primal secret. But the problem remained – what was he going to do with it?

You stared at the door a moment, then another moment.

From the door came a knock. You blinked.

Another knock.

Asahi would have said something by now. Asked permission. Zenos would not have knocked in the first place.

Knock, knock.

“Who is it?” You asked, and the door opened.

 _You’d think there was no lock at all._ Or you’d just forgotten to lock it. _As if that would explain everyone just **walking in** the past few days._

You had suspected the lock was just for an illusion of privacy. Though it made little difference with how lightly you slept, it still didn’t sit well with you that it didn’t keep anyone out.

It is a servant who entered, probably a soldier to whom the task was delegated. _Strange. Asahi seemed determined to make a nuisance of himself._

First Fray wished to get rid of Asahi, now your darkside wanted him back. And Fray had been trying to count the times you would regret sparing him. _Test me any more and I will bring up the count, and I daresay it will be higher than you think._

There was. No. Count. What was more, you had completely forgotten. It was of no consequence practically that Zenos had been able to fight while inside the Abyss, but what Fray had said…

_We were both there. He heard something, a voice, that was obvious. The first requisite for a person to become a Dark Knight._

It was indeed, but why had Fray felt the need to point it out? It was strange, interesting even, but it made no difference. Zenos was a Garlean, he couldn’t even channel aether like the more powerful Dark Knight techniques required. Or could he? From Fordola, you’d heard that Aulus had been research into the Echo had been inspired by his desire to give Garleans the ability to use magic.

How the two were connected, you had no idea. The Echo wasn’t exactly a kind of magic, though it was certainly powerful, and it made possible which magic was unable to accomplish. It made sense that Zenos would seek power in any way possible, but that didn’t explain why Aulus had shifted his focus from magic to the Echo.

Wait – that was it. That was what you had in common, the thing you and Zenos both had. If the Echo was what allowed you to survive in the Abyss, then Zenos’s Resonance might explain how he had lasted so long in there.

You frowned. Sidurgu didn’t have the Echo, and neither had Fray – the original Fray, anyways. It was possible, though, that neither of them had ever been there, and had only been connected to the darkness, not actually descended into the Abyss. You yourself had never been there, except when you had fought with Fray, and recently when you had dragged Zenos there for that confrontation, to protect the secret of Estinien and Lucia’s presence.

Zenos couldn't actually use magic now, could he? The sword techniques you'd seen from him, while impressive, did not quite appear to be aether manipulation, especially considering that one of the swords he used had been used to summon a primal. Even if he could, he would need a soul crystal to begin himself on the path of the dark knight and you weren't about to give up yours. You knew not how new ones would be created; all the soul crystals you possessed had been passed to you from a mentor, who had inherited it from another person, and so forth. The sole exception being the Soul of the Machinist, which, while you supposed it would suit Zenos, you didn't actually know how to create. 

And event that was not the greatest barrier to Zenos learning the ways of the Abyss. To become a Dark Knight, one needed not only the soul crystal, but also the will to protect, which was the entire ethos of the discipline.

That drew a scoff from you. Zenos, protect.

But still.

If it had been impossible, why would Zenos have heard the voice in the first place? Fray had no answers for you; your darkside had only ever spoken the things you wanted to say, were afraid to say, hated to say. Your journey as the Warrior of Light had been all about protecting others and slaying their enemies. Zenos had no such inclinations. So what had the voice said to him? 

Perhaps it really hadn't been the voice you were familiar with. With the Echo and the Resonance working against each other, who knew how the two might interact? Not to mention whatever other things had influenced you when you faced Zenos down so recently. So many questions, to which you had no answers at all.

The Echo, Shinryu, the Resonance and the Abyss. It was altogether more than you ever felt like thinking about.

As far as you knew, you challenge with Zenos still stood. If you defeated him, you could reasonably expect Zenos’s support.

 _Do we want his name attached to any pacifist movement in Garlean politics?_ Fray’s incredulity was clear, and quite warranted. _Would anyone believe it anyways?_

If Zenos had not been involved in politics at all, there was a chance he might be something of an unknown factor to most of the players there. Although it was inevitable that at least some of them would know about Zenos’s violent proclivities. But in that case you could simply have Zenos not intervene, and allow you to proceed with Maxima and his coalition however you saw fit.

Then again, Lucia had only ever said he did not _care_ for politics, not that he did not involve himself in it. He had at least been appointed Viceroy, and he had appointed one for Doma as well – a calculated choice, if his motives were to be believed. What he had said to you back then was another mystery to unravel; Doma had been under Imperial rule for twenty years, but for some reason Zenos had been sent there with instructions to ‘bleed them of hope’, presumably from the Emperor.

You believed Zenos's claim that the order had come from his father.  _Indeed. 'Devoid of proper sport', he called it. He would not have broken Doma intentionally. Zenos wanted a fight, not a slaughter._

Wether that sentiment could be called reassuring was a question all its own, but there was a greater question still - why would the Emperor even order something like that?

What had changed that made Doma no longer viable? Why would the Empire want to lose power there, after all they had done to secure it? As far as you had heard from the Domans, Imperial rule had been _bad,_ certainly, but what it was under the twenty years of rule was nothing compared to what happened after the Rebellion. Something had to have changed. In Doma, or in the Empire itself.

Ala Mhigo and Eorzea both had long resisted Imperial rule, but at least some of the occupied peoples had started to accept Garlean rule. Fordola and Asahi were living proof. Just an insurgence like the Resistance wouldn’t be reason enough to give up on Doma – and if it was, why did the Imperials take it back in the first place? Expending their forces to regain Doma when he intended to ruin the nation anyways was a fool's move, and Varis soz Galvus had not struck you as a fool. 

 _Politics,_ Fray sulked, and part of you despaired with your darkside. It had never been quite your favorite thing to do, but balancing Zenos, his captive primal capable of producing another Calamity, the threat of war with Garlemald, and trying to change the goals of the Empire while doing so was more than you had ever dreamed of taking on. And that did say quite a lot, considering who you were.

In the face of all this, what seemed most important was of course your duel with Zenos; you had no doubt he would respect the outcome of your battle. How much you could get out of it, you knew not, but you were absolutely  **not** going to lose.

 

There would be time to seek answers later; nothing worth doing was also easy. It was time to do what you knew best, play upon your strengths, and give Zenos what he deserved. You were, after all, the Warrior of Light.

Today, you would fight. 

 

 

 

Asahi should not have been there. He knew this, of course, and was there anyways.

The informant had told him that Aulus was the one who Zenos had arranged his research with, and it would seem the information was true. Full glad he was that he’d slain that anonymous soldier, doubtless some fool who had spied on his Lord’s work and thought to take advantage of it. That soldier had somehow known so much; Asahi would have to see to the security of this project once he was finished with it.

Assuming he survived.  

Where the Crown Prince’s specially commissioned scientist was, the captive eikon could not be far away. All he had needed to do was identify Aulus’s quarters, and trail the man until he reached the laboratory he worked at. Several of the many monitors displayed the captive primal quite clearly in one of the larger hangars of the airship. Aulus sat at the desk filled with screens, glancing back at Asahi for only the briefest of moments.

“What have we here? A Doman, I see. I was hoping for another Garlean to test it on, given the exceptional results Lord Zenos has exhibited… but a subject is a subject nonetheless.”

He was bound by devices, caught. As he had expected to be. After being attacked, there was no way Aulus would not notice a person following him on the airship. Only now did the scientist do anything about it, despite surely having realized he was leading Asahi straight to Lord Zenos’s captured Eikon.

From what his source on Shinryu had said, Aulus was exactly the type that would see this as an opportunity to test his strange empowering process even further. With Lord Zenos’s project with Aulus being complete already, and Garlemald approaching, the scientist would be eager to find something more to study.

If it meant gaining a power alike to his Lord, and you, the Slayer of Eikons who had so enraptured him; if it meant being of use to Lord Zenos, true use, and not simply a faceless solider to be discarded… Asahi would offer himself gladly.

Of course, he could not simply offer outright. Asahi was not even meant to know of the greater part of his Lord’s research. He had to let Aulus think it was _his_ idea, it was mere good fortune that had resulted in a perfect, forgettable, non-Garlean test subject appearing.

Even more so since Lord Zenos had relegated Asahi to a useless duty, meaning he would not be missed. Everyone on the airship knew by now that Asahi’s rank meant nothing; he was your escort, nothing more. Even if the Emperor himself had given Asahi the title of Ambassador, Lord Zenos’s orders were absolute, unquestionable. The Twelfth held no doubt as to who they feared more, and Aulus would think nothing of disposing a Doman whom his Lord had essentially demoted.

Asahi had at least enough sense to suppress his smile as his world grew dark, faking an expression of alarm and stuttering out an apology. His last thought, as all reason faded, was that even if Aulus noticed something wrong, he was unlikely to care. Just as Asahi was unlikely to survive.

Long before he had entered this forbidden area and been captured by Aulus, Asahi had decided.

A life without his Lord, his attention and respect…

Was not worth living.

 

 

 

Aulus could not believe his luck.

Being a man of science, of course, he was required to. Observation was the ultimate decider for all scientists; his observation was that a disposable young Doman, in good health no less, had followed him into a forbidden area. A place where one of Lord Zenos’s most prized secrets lay dormant, waiting. A boy no one would miss, committing a crime Lord Zenos would have him executed for without a thought. The Crown Prince would certainly not begrudge him the loss of this soldier.

A perfect disposable specimen. A Garlean would have been ideal, of course, but not quite as disposable. Perhaps the boy’s political entourage would come searching for him, though that scenario would present its own unique set of challenges. Pureblooded Garleans rarely disappeared without at least a cursory investigation.

Still, Aulus wondered as the boy to the ground, what was wrong with the boy? Terror would explain the widened eyes and elevated heart rate, Aulus considered, having his devices lift the boy onto the table, but the subject’s breathing remained remarkably controlled.

The Doman boy had been dispatched as an Ambassador; theoretically it made sense that he would retain such habits in intensely stressful situations. Calm breaths helped with preventing heated discourse, presumably.

Either way it mattered not to the scientist. Assuming this subject survived, he may even be able to move on to testing on pureblooded Garleans. With Lord Zenos’s survival, and his blessing, the project would move along splendidly.

 

 

From across the room, a figure watched; the sole occupant of the lab other than the scientist and his subject.

Expression controlled, the calm of still waters that ran deep. Cold and calculating.

It had not gone as intended. Lately, few things had.

But still, this… if events aligned precisely, it may just be enough.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than the others because it’s been split from the last chapter (since I was in a rush to get the last chapter out already, lol) and because I really want to polish the next chapter. I believe I’ve mentioned this before, but I spend a good deal of time working on chapters that are much further ahead in the story... and sometimes, I add something in the current story that changes what needs to happen in the next chapters.
> 
> It's endured significantly less refinement than the other chapters, but I'm slowly coming to terms with the fact that I rarely ever feel like a chapter is 'finished' before I post it. I always want to change something, add something, reconsider this line. But if I wrote like that, I'd never post anything, so here you have the next chapter! The next one I'm going to see if I can't get out this weekend - no promises, but the bulk of it is already written. I had to adjust some things for recent events in the story, and I need to flesh it out, but if all goes well, you guys should see a double post this week :)
> 
> Also, apparently Yoshi-P once answered a question phrased “Does Zenos spin his rotating sheath for fun?” With, “Yes, because he likes the sound it makes.” 100% canon here, I have the creator on my side.


	15. Fighting for

You spent the better part of the morning searching, fruitlessly, for Lucia. She was nowhere to be found in the walkways and open areas you checked, and it was becoming clearer and clearer that you wouldn’t find her without knowing where to look. The obvious solution was to simply find someone on the ship with some measure of authority and ask.

…Thereupon which you spent several more hours searching for _Asahi,_ the one person you might conceivably trust to look for her without Zenos knowing. Not that Asahi wouldn’t want Zenos to know; he just wouldn’t dare to approach Zenos concerning your orders, given how Zenos had acted around him.

Asahi, it turned out, had gone missing. As surely as you could not find Lucia anywhere on this ship, you could not find him, either.

 _Do I sense a tinge of regret? I suppose it is unfortunate that we will not be able to dispose of the wretch ourselves._ Whenever you were tempted to think of yourself as a _real_ hero, it was little things like that which set you straight. To say nothing of the misfortune you’d caused others, despite growing bitter about your service to them.

_If you even **think** of pulling another self-pitying stunt with Myste I will personally manifest once more so Zenos and I can take turns beating the sentiment out of you._

A rousing encouragement if ever there was one. You didn’t know who was stronger between Zenos and your darkside, but you knew for certain withstanding them both at once… Well, you had done impossible things before, but some things were beyond the impossible. _If I meet him again, I will be sure to tell him that._

Thanks, Fray.

More pressing still was how badly your search had gone. It wasn’t even surprising that you hadn’t found Lucia – this airship was truly massive – but once you’d resolved to ask Asahi about her, you’d found he was missing, too. Unlike Lucia you could openly ask passing soldiers and officers for Asahi’s whereabouts.

Each of them had answered you, some of them with a noticeable tremor in their voices. Some with marked annoyance. All of their words had pointed to Asahi having last been seen with Aulus, but no one knew where the scientist was. A higher-ranking officer you’d pulled over had confessed Aulus had been mostly keeping to certain secured locations for the moment, since his attacker was still on the loose. It made perfect sense, except that Asahi had somehow found him, and after what had happened Asahi probably didn’t have permission to go wherever he pleased.

Now, you leaned further on the railing as you let the wind brush through your hair, now things were beginning to be worrying. You were still sure that Lucia had not attacked Aulus, but if her treachery had been discovered – no, it couldn’t have been. Estinien had been with you just hours ago, and you had seen her the day before.

If there had been a discovery, you would have doubtless been called forth. Your actions in Ishgard were well-known, and the Garleans would know that Lucia had been there.

 

So, when a soldier came to you, nervously repeating Zenos’s summons, you followed with no small amount of worry. The room he led you to was much the same as before – bare and plain and _small,_ much more suited to an interrogation than a true battle.

Zenos sat in the chair facing the doorway, lounging to one side.

Of course. Of course he was there, lounging around in his _interrogation room_ as he waits for you to come to him, like a beast in his lair. Zenos’s eyes didn’t stray from you for a heartbeat, fixed on his prize with rapt attention. Sizing you up, planning his next move. Unbelievable. As if you didn’t have enough to worry about.

You almost wanted to draw your weapon, demand he meet your challenge outright. The deal you made didn’t cover any Resonance-induced Abyssal fights, after all, and if it did – well, he’d more or less lost the last time already. From the way he was casually sitting around, in the same room as last time…

What could he possibly think he would gain by using the Resonance on you again? _If it were about Lucia and Estinien, he would say it outright._

Fray’s words were comforting, for once. But the silence was getting to you; that and Zenos’s insistent, self-satisfied staring. As though you’d already wandered into his trap. _We’ll see._

“What is this about, Zenos?” You suspected you already knew the answer.

 _Do not fear._ Easy for Fray to say. _Do you want to try repelling him on your own?_

Disturbingly, you weren’t sure if Fray was serious with that or not. More disturbing still was that you considered perhaps trying it yourself anyways, despite having no evidence whatsoever you could hold the Resonance off without Fray’s assistance. _If the weight of Estinien and Lucia’s lives upon your shoulders is truly so light to bear, go right ahead. Otherwise…_

Yes, Fray. There was no need for taunting. You understood.

“Our business is yet unfinished, _Warrior_ of Light,” Zenos purred, fixing his gaze on you, his target, with ruthless tenacity.  

“When I challenged you, I knew not of the Resonance. Are you unwilling to face me on any other battlefield, or just unable?” You snapped, channeling Fray so deeply, you half-wondered if a red aura would come up and surround you.

He met your taunt with one of his own, naturally. “You mean to call me a coward? A coward. Who only fights battles he knows he can win, who never takes true risks and faces his prey only when they are completely cornered.”

“I _have_ fought battles I could not win.” You ground out, “Against you. I don’t care if I can win or not, I will fight anyway if I need to. Did you not hear enough of this in the Abyss, or do you just want to return there so badly?”

Zenos’s lips lifted at the corner – you had confirmed his theory that you had in fact remembered what took place in the Abyss, for all you had seemed unaffected by it. Good, good. Now, all that was left was to remove the source of your hesitation – the secret of your ‘friend’ who had boarded the airship and even now was an intruder in their midst.

“Then you have no need to fear this battle of the Resonance and the Echo, where you have yet to defeat me.” He could see the intended effect on your normally stoic face, now that he knew what to look for.

A mixture of prideful outrage and iron restraint. It was good fortune indeed that he knew what that restraint was for. Looking back at your encounters with the knowledge that you were hiding something from him, your evasion might not have been because you did not want him to see your memories.

“I did defeat you.”

“By chasing me on to another battlefield,” Zenos drawled, leaning forwards. “A clever tactic. You could not stop me from sinking my claws into your memories, so you threw us both into that black ocean, where only you could swim.”

“Yes, I won.” Your voice was low with provocation; he nearly laughed at it, thinking of how he might have reacted before, not realizing that you were desperate to keep your ‘friends’ a secret. “What’s your point? You want to see my memories that badly?”

An idea had come to him earlier. Not one particularly likely to work, but no less promising in its… ingenuity.

He could try using the Resonance on _you_ instead of your memories; it was well-documented that the Echo had other effects, so the Resonance may as well. The research suggested that the person using the Echo saw the vision, and the one upon whom it was being used saw nothing. That clearly hadn’t been what happened last time, but then, the Resonance and the Echo were beasts of a different sort, each of them.

It was worth a try, at least. If he did it correctly, Zenos could trap _you_ in the vision instead. He could do that by having you use the Echo on him – he would have control of himself while you watched the memories – but then you would be able to stop it at will. No, he needed to trick you, to guide your power with the Resonace so you were stuck watching _your_ memories. As he had been stuck in that Abyss.

If he could reverse what you had done, he could gain the same advantage you had on him last time. Whether or not he would still _be_ there as you had last time – Zenos smiled.

Time to see what he could do.

“Not quite,” He said, watching your expression dip into confusion as he prepared to grasp at his power, and shove it towards you in one overwhelming blow.

Trying out this new technique, like flexing a new muscle, one he never had before – it made him shudder in excitement as he stared straight into your eyes, activating the Resonance with lightning speed, and pulling you into visions of your own past.

 

The experience is strange, like wading through deep water, but Zenos is not one to stop at minor difficulties. He sees, vaguely, as though through clouded glass, the memories that you are being shown. The nameless sense he had been honing warned him you were readying yourself, posturing to lash out and pull him into another vision.

He knows he wants distance, to stay away from your memories, away from your visions. If he left, would you also stop seeing them? There is only one way to find out, and there was less and less time to avoid your counterattack.

Gathering his strength, he reaches out for the pictures in your mind, whatever it is you are seeing; grasping it with his power as he might grasp an animal and hold it away from himself. Keeping distant, unaffected, but holding your memories in his hands. The urge to drive in, take his fill, experience what you had is overwhelming, but not strong enough. Like a beast, he could feel you lying in wait, Echo poised to pull you into any memory he tried to look into. The moment he did, you would sink your fangs into him and pull him into your den.

Oh, he almost wishes you would. He takes a look at the memories he’s holding at arm’s length, considers to himself if they are worth the struggle. Of course, he cannot tell without seeing their contents. It would be a terrible risk. At his fingertips, well within his reach, the experiences echo out, call to him, and he knows he can be immersed completely in them with but a thought. The power is nearly intoxicating, but he knows he isn’t done yet, isn’t out yet. A delicate dance, this. One he could easily lose with a single misstep.

A shove, an _impression,_ a strange urging he imparts on you which he has no words for. Throwing the vague collection of thoughts, feelings, and sights he had prized from you straight at your mind, all the while keeping them away from his own. That is all it takes before you are engrossed, your Echo latching onto the visions seemingly without your active consent. Sounds and sights are blurred before him beyond any recognition, and intuitively Zenos knows this is what keeps him out of your reach – away from the Abyss.

The further he gets, the safer he is. It seems the range was short indeed; the less he saw inside your mind, the harder it was for you to take him into the Abyss.

Since he cannot see your memories anyways without you attacking him… Zenos pulls away, slowly, listening, watching carefully with his budding senses, trying to detect if you were still taken by the visions, if your Echo has truly kept you there…

And it seems they had.

 

Zenos was completely free of the Resonance’s effects, the world around him clear and static, the sensations beyond reproach. But you… A glance was all it took confirm it.

Your gaze was fixed on him, your eyes still glazed over as visions of your own past flickered through your mind. Zenos himself had been repelled from your memories by that dark power, but it seemed the effects of the Resonance were still… _echoing_ through your mind. Perhaps the Resonance had an edge over the Echo, after all.

The door opened, and Zenos’s eyes flickered over – ah. Aulus. He gave the scientist a single nod of acknowledgement, then returned his gaze to you.

“Not unconscious, but also not fully aware of one’s own surroundings. The Echo is inconvenient to force its user in so compromising a position.” Aulus mused as he walked past your slumped over body towards Zenos.

You didn’t wake at the words; Aulus’s brows rose and Zenos, surprisingly enough, spoke up in explanation.

“I was able to use the Resonance to trap the Warrior in visions caused by the Echo, a meditation, or trance, or sorts.” That you had done the same thing to him while dragging him into the Abyss – that bore no repeating. “The Warrior has not awakened to anything, so far.”

“Do you imagine this is a temporary paralysis, or will the subject respond to stimulation?” Aulus’s tone was enough to make Zenos scoff.

“The moment you touch the Warrior you may well lose the hand you reach out with.” His gaze flickered from you to Aulus, and back again. “Someone so powerful would never be caught so unawares. The instinct of battle is deeper in ones such as us, a far more base instinct than the use of the Echo or the Resonance.”

“Have you any evidence to your hypothesis?” Only Aulus would doubt him so.

Zenos stood, which was a loud sound in itself, walked briskly over and reached, carefully, for your face. Still you stared forwards, eyes unfocused, still you stared, until...

The instant the tips of his gauntlets brushed against your cheek a force surged to push him back. A heartbeat was all it took for you to stand from your chair, eyes wide and alert once more, flickering to examine the room around you as you bared your blade to him.

Just the sight of that greatsword you had wielded against him…

“What did you _do,_ Zenos?” You snapped at him with all your strength, still reeling internally from the memories you’d been forced to relive.

You wouldn’t let your resolve be tested, not now that you had finally – no. You could never _accept_ what had happened to Haurchefant, but you could move past it; if only because he would have commanded you to. If only because he had told you…

Zenos’s voice, low and dangerous, pulled you from your internal line of thought. “Something more complicated than I had anticipated, it seems. No matter; let us dance, Warrior of _Light.”_

‘Twas and entertaing enough trick, one he yet may find use for, but Zenos had no interest in watching you watch some memories of the past that he himself could not see. With your stoicism, he would not even have the pleasure of any interesting reactions, not while he was unable to provoke you. It was time to use the Resonance to its fullest, confront that warrior in the darkness.

It was true, what he had thought. Nothing that was easy was also interesting.

 

 

 

 **You’ve come again.** The words are blunt and toneless, as though you had expected this.

Zenos considers more provocations, mocking you outright; but this Warrior is not quite like you, entirely. It was you he faced before, of that Zenos was certain, and you he faced now. But this version of yourself possessed a hardness, a strength he had not seen from you in real life. Before him now stood the Warrior who had told your friends to grow strong for themselves and fight their own battles, and that you refused to be there for them.

But also, he realizes, the Warrior who had saved that pitiful Doman boy some days ago and who tried still to keep those insects who had intruded on his airship. The Warrior that had claimed your leaving Eorzea was for the good of the people you had left behind.

“That I have. You confessed to understand the impossibility of your goals, then said you would try anyways to complete them – and still you cling to the greatest farce of it all, this heroism.”

 **A farce, you say?** Your voice is still possessed of that strange echo, sounding like you and not like you all at once. **All of Eorzea calls me their defender, Doma calls me their liberator, Ishgard their savior. But by all means, tell me about how my heroism is a farce.**

You gesture to the man before you, clad in the heaviest of armors, with one broad, open armed swing. **Of what farce do you speak?**

“I speak of your petty ideals, _hero._ ” Zenos snaps with an impatience you had never seen from him before, “Your belief that you are some martyr, some savior who yet lives to serve others; it is beyond my reckoning why you would choose such a thing for yourself, or why you imagine these rules to live by. No more of this. You have no need of such things.”

 **It is not about what I need.** Your voice is quiet and steady, **It is about what others need from me.**

Your tone imparts upon him a familiar sense of emptiness.

Was that really all you cared for? That the weak, helpless peoples of those pitiful nations could not get by without your assistance? Zenos could not fathom why such a thing should matter to you; as you had when he and you met, you had started weak yourself, and then grown strong. You could not have become the Warrior of Light _because_ you were needed.

But perhaps, Zenos’s eyes narrow as he thinks back, of annoying noble children who had been shoved beside him in hopes of becoming his right hand, children who tried desperately to ingratiate themselves to him, no matter what… Yes. It seems familiar, now. More than that, ‘twas now clear why you were so determined to believe that you alone could save the ones who called you hero.

“Ah… The source from whence this corruption began, the cause of this malady festering within your consciousness. _Need._ Tell me, is it that others need you, or is it that you _need_ them to need you?”

Ice shoots up into your chest, the coldness curling around your heart as you hear his words.

 **Why would I –** You hesitate, you search for words, and that is enough to bring a vicious smile to his lips; at last he has found your weakness. **I – but they _do_ need me! What do you mean to suggest, that there are others who can kill primals and repel your Legions?**

He could not possibly believe that was the case – which makes it all the stranger to hear this from him.

“You did not care if there are no others who can protect those you have abandoned; that is why you were able to leave. All that mattered before was that you were _needed –_ and as long as you were needed, there would be a battle for you to fight.”

Wrong. No, wrong. It hadn’t been that. When you started out as an adventurer – you _had_ expected fights, but – you had known there would be more fighting, but – you had, you hadn’t been, you had tried, so many times, to be diplomatic – but you had just been trying to – there had _always_ been fighting, but – you –

If Fray were here, if you and Fray were not the same person – your darkside would be telling you about Hraesvelgr, about all the primals you’d faced. You always tried to stop the stop the summoning, and you’d always failed. When Hraesvelgr first denied you aid, you had wanted to – and, even if you’d restrained yourself, eventually you had fought the Great Wyrm, even in just a trial. Somewhere along the line you had started _expecting_ –

 **Eorzea did not descend into chaos because of me.** The excuse feels hollow to your own ears. So many who had been close to you – Minfilia, Haurchefant, Ysayle, and Papalymo, so many others had all died as a part of your adventures. **You should know. Garlemald invaded other nations of their own will, primals were summoned by panicked beast tribes; none of this was under my control. I – someone would have been needed, even if I had never come to Eorzea.**

“You did not cause it?” Zenos’s voice is filled with a savage satisfaction. “People who have power look for fights. People who have no power lose everything. You were hunting down new foes to defeat, accepting the quests foisted upon you in hopes of finding greater battles still. Until you found me, and you no longer needed them to need you.”

It has a strange logic to it, something you’d never thought about before. Zenos had just described your life as an adventurer with cutting accuracy, and the truth crashes over you in an all-consuming wave, just like his words.

Somewhere along the line you had started expecting fights.

**That was the reason I _left_ Eorzea. I needed them to _stop_ needing me, to rely upon themselves.**

“Lies, all of it. Were that the case, you would have left sooner. You _wanted_ to fight, and you knew that being the _Warrior of Light_ would get you the fights you wanted.” Just like me, Zenos does not say. But only because he is studying your face, eager to see your reaction.

**I left because you gave me a chance to leave while still protecting them. I was saving them. I will always save them.**

Zenos scoffs, beyond bored of your endless posturing. “You cling to the idea that you alone can save the people of this world, but the truth is that you would be _nothing_ without them, wouldn’t you? All this foolishness, just to save pathetic, worthless creatures who will never be worth the effort you expend on them. And still, all your heroism – you know you will never save them all. The most you can do is stem the tide; even for those you do save, their lives are as fleeting as they are weak.”

His preaching would have touched you a lot less if you hadn’t accepted it already. That trying to outright rescue every single person who’d ever been in danger was a fool’s quest… that the only way to save them was to make them save themselves, and damn the lives that would be lost in the process.

He must see the hesitation on your face, because at your sign of weakness, he strikes. “There is no future for the weak; their lives do not matter. Only those with the strength to seize power, to make their will into reality – only _our_ lives matter, and even then, we have but one life to live. When our allotted time is spent, even those such as you and I, our glory will fade from existence. In the face of that, what meaning does it hold, that some weak fool has lived instead of died because it suited you to fight his battles?”

If Zenos is expecting weakness, you will not show it to him. You are weaker here in the Abyss, yes, because anyone would be weaker here. But you were a dark knight, and you were stronger here, too. Possessed of an inner strength unlike anything on Hydaelyn, well at home in this infinite blackness.

**It matters to them. You can say what you want about the pleasures you choose to pursue, but to the people I save, it means _everything_ to them. It isn’t a waste to the people being saved. It will never be a waste. Do you think because they are weak they don’t want to live? They value their lives just as much as you do yours. **

“It makes no difference. They will die all the same, one day.” Zenos says. He does not sound bored, exactly, but there is no interest in his voice; as though you spoke of events long past. There is only a deep confidence, a knowing inflection beneath his words.

**It makes a difference to _them._**

“However desperately they want to live, it will amount to nothing. It is only you, only _your_ feelings that save them, and if you were not the warrior that you are, even that would not be enough.” His tone is empty and factual.

It frustrates you all the more, builds the foundation for fury in your chest. His empty blue eyes, his blunt dismissive manner. He was the one who had started this, he was the on who wanted to know this about you. Was Zenos really going to stand there and not take anything you said seriously?

**But I am! I _can_ save them!**

“That means nothing.” You watch Zenos’s eyes narrow in the darkness. “You only delay their fates, deny them the chance to meet death on their own terms, have their merit judged by the one true arbiter of worth; all because you wish to buy them a scant few months or years of living.”

Your chest burns at his cruel assertions, at the truth you had confronted and moved past with great difficulty. But it shouldn’t have been difficult for Zenos to see, he knew you were a hero. What was bothering him about this? He should already know you cared about other people. You had already told him about this.

 **It matters to them,** You repeat, despite the knowledge in the back of your mind, telling you Zenos did not _care_ what did and did not matter to others. It shows in his reaction. Does he think less of you for this? **If I don’t do it, no one will. I can’t just. I can’t just leave.**

You find yourself repeating sentences, stammering over words under the force of his stare. Why was he looking at you like that? You wanted him to stop looking at you like that. Why was he silent? You knew, faintly, he hated it when you were quiet, when you didn’t give him the answers he wanted.

Still, those empty, beautiful blue eyes bore into you. Frightening in their intensity, boundless in their desire. His face is like a porcelain mask, betraying no emotions. It frustrates you more and more. Was this how you looked to him, was this how you looked to people when you were being stoic?

Why was he looking at you like that? Was he looking down on you? How _dare_ he look down on you.

 **Leave people, to die! Knowing that I can stop it. You don’t understand.** The sudden hiss in your voice, the sudden glare you give him and anger you exude almost makes Zenos take a step back.

“You did leave,” Zenos finds himself saying, his fingers itching to draw his weapon, strike at you with blade as well as with words, “You left Eorzea behind, left all your allies behind to come when I called you.”

**So that they wouldn’t have to fight anymore. So they would fight for themselves! So that I wouldn’t have to fight _you!_ You don’t understand! If I’d killed you, I’d be all alone again!**

The revelation touches something deep within him. You did not want to fight him? Zenos frowns at you.

Then who was it, who was that Warrior he’d met in the Abyss, who was that beast he’d sparred with, who was that Champion of the Savages who had met him in Doma and made him work for his victory? He’d realized, he’d known you were tired, that you had long since lost your will to fight. But you could not even gather yourself to fight _him?_

But, Zenos’s eyes widen with comprehension, that had not been what you said. If you’d killed him, you would be alone again.

“I see now. You do know.” Zenos says, in the closest thing to a whisper he has ever used in his entire life. In the Abyss it may as well be a shout, since there is no other noise to even partly drown it out. “You know it; that you and I stand atop the world with no equals, power without compare. You understand-”

 **You do _not_. Nothing like this has ever mattered to you! You cannot understand!** You are not yourself here, not quite; you are one with your darkside, the Swirling Abyss all around you. This version of yourself lashes out, latches onto the perceived failures Zenos exhibits and tears at them with ruthless efficiency.

Shock flickers over his expressionless face; a clue you had indeed gone in the right direction. Disdain is not far behind, though, and Zenos reaches for his weapon just as you search your mind for yours.

Looking for the words that will touch him the most, searching for things to say that will unsettle him more than anything else. You would have liked to think that you had never been so malevolent, but with the _look_ Zenos is giving you – had you made him _angry?_ – suddenly all you can think is…

He was right.

Distantly, the memory of your many encounters returns to you. At first it had been different, but quickly enough in your adventuring you had grown accustomed to it, and then beyond accustomed. You had been relieved when finally you faced the primals, you had been _ecstatic,_ you had been _waiting for this,_ you had _wanted_ to fight, just like him.

When Hraesvelgr had denied you aid the first time, you had wanted to fight. It was only your allies who had stopped you, the assurance that you did not _need_ to fight him holding you back. Zenos was right, wasn’t he? You had been searching for a fight the whole time. After Nidhogg was slain the first time, you had returned to Hraesvelgr and you had wanted to slay him for what he had done. Whatever your reasons, you had _always_ wanted to fight.

And you were a terrible person. But it couldn’t be any other way. If it hadn’t been for you, if you hadn’t been a hero like you decided to be… It didn’t bear thinking about. So many would have died, been tempered, or simply lost everything. No one else had the power you did. Without you fighting on their behalf, _nothing_ would have saved them. would have saved them.

All that had saved them as it was – Zenos had said it himself – was your desire to do battle, to seek out enemies to kill. And you had still been their only hope, the only person who could defend them from the gods and armies that had come to make them suffer. You’d left them behind, you remember, tears forming in your eyes, choking in your throat.

You left them behind because you thought it was better for them to fight for themselves, and if – if you’d left any sooner, they would have _died,_ it would have been a catastrophe, a Calamity, and it would have happened because you weren’t around to stop it. It had taken the intervention of Hydaelyn Herself to save everyone so far, you had been empowered beyond belief to be able to do what you could do.

Those people had cried out in heartfelt prayer for a god to save them, and you had  _resented_ those innocent people - 

Gods, they could have all died, been tempered, been brutalized and enslaved by Garleans. It would have happened it not for you. It would have happened if you had not fought for them.

**When you can do the things that I can, when you have the power to stop bad things!**

You are almost sobbing, Zenos realizes as you advance towards him, your mighty greatsword dragging behind you, trailing red on the featureless black abyss that was the floor you stood on. Red with his blood, he remembers, from when last he and you met in this place.

**When you have the power to stop bad things, and you _don’t do it,_ and then bad things happen, and people die-**

Clutching his shoulders, shaking the mighty and ruthless prince before you, you look at Zenos with tear-filled, angry eyes. Angry that he didn’t understand, couldn’t understand.

**When you can save people and you don’t, it’s your fault. It’s my fault. If something bad happens and I could have stopped it, it’s my fault! MY fault! It’s always my fault, I’m the one people depend on, I’m the one that must do it! No one else can!**

Zenos looks at your agonized face and feels something piercing his chest. Fault? He knew not from whence your obsession came, about assigning guilt to yourself for the weaknesses of others, but if this was the source of your indecisive nature, he would pull it out by the root.

“What arrogance is this? You think all ills are within your power to address, every death within your power to prevent? And this from a warrior who could not even best me when first we met! You cannot possibly take all this responsibility on yourself. _Why_ would you take this onto yourself?”

It is true incredulity you hear in his voice then. You pause for a moment, look inside yourself, this person who dwelt within the Abyss, to find your true response.

Impatience claws at him before you have your answer, and Zenos pushes you back, advancing with as much fervor as you had before. “Well? Tell me! Why have you taken these chains upon yourself, why be brought down to such a level when you are _so much more_ , when all it brings you is misery! Why not revel in the joy of your power, in the pleasure only one such as you can find on the battlefield?”

Every word he said brought something back – why you’d started everything in the first place. Every angry question of his gave you back a little strength.

**Do you really think that’s what it was to me? A burden? Arrogance?**

“You’ve admitted already you know this is an impossible burden, pointless to try to carry, whatever your prowess. Are you truly so determined to you spend the whole of your life fading away under the suffocating cowardice and incompetence of your so-called friends and allies?!”

 **I thought that at least _you_ would be able to understand. You have the same power as I, we have been given similar… responsibilities. ** A promise comes to your mind, and before you can stop yourself, you say it. **You and I together; we would be a force without stopping. I cannot imagine you trust other people to be strong any more than I do.**

You say it without thinking, simply observing out loud what ran through your mind. His candor, it seemed, is infectious; you didn’t remember either of you being so chatty, last time. Why you bothered to talk so much about what you had in common, you would never know. It just came to you. That you and he were the same, so he would decide the same as you.

You were nothing like everyone else. You were the only one who could do anything, when danger arose, and what they had to toil to accomplish, you could complete with ease and grace. You were power, and they were weak. So nothing they did would ever matter, you could never expect them to succeed in anything important.

It is easy to tell that Zenos would think like that, because _you_ thought like that. A wave of revulsion passes through you when you realize – yes. You did think like that sometimes, you did see everyone around you as… not exactly helpless. Just… you never expected them to do anything, never expected anything but to do everything yourself.

Even as a Legatus, you do not believe Zenos has any great faith in the people surrounding him. Perhaps a detached, clinical expectation that they would obey out of fear of him; but Zenos brought no companions into battle, nor did he depend on his subordinates to aid him. He had personally led his forces against the Doman rebellion, and the raid on Rhalgr’s Reach. For the things that mattered to him – for his _hunt,_ as it were – it meant nothing if he did not do it himself.

You notice Zenos’s eyes widening at, pulling your thoughts back to the matter at hand.

Of all the things you could have said, this alone strikes a true cord within Zenos. But still, he _could not understand._ This is unacceptable. Completely unacceptable. There was no way he couldn’t understand; there was no one else in the world who _could_ understand.

You were just. Like. Him.

“When first you and I met, you were _pathetic._ ” Finally, Zenos sees you reel at his words, at the blue fire flickering in his eyes. “I thought nothing of striking you down, and less still of your efforts against me. How weak, how truly pitiful you must have been, _before_ you and I first met.”

Before you met him, you were weak; you became strong by facing more and more powerful opponents. You had not become as strong as he until you met him, the one true worthy rival left for you in this world – you had not matched him until you met him. Only though battle, only by tearing apart your enemies and rising above their worthless corpses were you able return the challenge. Only then could you feel _live,_ as he had.

You thought he did not understand, but he did. He did! He knew full well who you were, what you were, because he had _been_ you! He _is_ you!

 **Who are you to talk about that? I _have_ grown strong!** Your unexpected fury crashes down upon him like a wave, and his heart races, _sings_ as he sees you draw your greatsword. **I was protecting people then, I am protecting them now. I have always protected them!**

The Soul of the Dark Knight burns like an Abyssal flame within your chest. It draws its power from your fury, draining you, but also strengthening you. In a way.

“I’ve had enough of this wretched, worthless charade.” His callous manner stokes the flames of your anger even further. “You did not set out to save the world, you were not always the Warrior of Light. You started out to find a _challenge,_ searching for a battle worth fighting, an adventure.”

Right. He was right, Zenos was right. From the very beginning, you had been an adventurer, you had been an intrepid nobody just searching for a life worth living. And _oh,_ had it been glorious, had you reveled in the joy of it – until it all became too much.

Your thoughts are made plain on your face, they must be – because Zenos smiles at you, a wicked, self-satisfied thing that sends shivers through you. You do not show it, you cannot show it; you’d rather die than let Zenos think he could intimidate you. Perhaps you didn’t have a rebuttal, but you did have your blade.

When you strike out at him you make clear you do not mean to play, but of course he gives you naught but an ecstatic laugh, bringing out his blade in one swift and fluid motion to meet your own, despite the difference of size between the weapons.

“That was how it started,” Zenos continues, blocking your advances with what would normally be chilling grace, but to your eyes is just his regular fighting manner. “Eventually the savages started to call you hero, as surely as the beastmen called the eikons gods, and that name bound you to do more and more for them. And for a time, you did as those mewling cowards bade; you fought their battles for them, protected them, covered for all their shameful weaknesses and their inability to think for themselves.”

Comparing you to the primals you had fought for so long – disgusting, infuriating, it is an insult beyond words.

It would not bother you so much if you hadn’t thought the same thing before, yourself.

You feel like killing him for it, so you raise your weapon, and try to make good on that feeling.

At last you speak to Zenos in words he can understand, in the language of violence in which he was so utterly fluent. A cry of joy is torn from his chest as your weapon falls upon his, shaking with energy and excitement, uncontrollable and eager. You struck at him with a savagery not unlike your form from older battles.

Undaunted even with your giant blade falling upon him, over and over, even as he drew your blood in various attacks you did not bother to evade, he finally sees himself reflected in your eyes. Shining at him with that same prideful outrage from your previous fight; Zenos cannot hold back a grin.

“It was never about them. How you loved it! How you must have thrived, how you must have relished in the challenges placed before you, how much more powerful you must have grown, until you were able to reach a level unto which gods dared not tread!”

Your sword against his is all the confirmation Zenos needs. He is right, he knows he is right, he _does_ understand, finally –

 **So?!** Your tone concedes and also denies, defiant to the end, but Zenos knows – **What does it matter if I liked what I did? That doesn’t mean I didn’t care about them! I always cared about them!**

“Then you would not have left. Once your battles stopped giving you a challenge, once following their orders no longer led you to the battlefields you wanted, you abandoned them.” Zenos says the words with growing satisfaction, parrying blow after blow, knowing that the strikes of his words are the only ones that matter. Still he does battle with you, blade against blade. He never could resist the call of the hunt, after all.

Before, in this place, he had been prey for you to slaughter. For all he had rent your flesh with his claws, bitten deep with his fangs, you pressed on, undeterred.

Your body would not fall to him in this place; so, he would wage war against your mind. And if that also meant forcing you to realize that all your heroism had been for naught in the first place… all the better.

A laugh from you, broken and bitter and quite familiar, reminiscent of his last meeting with you here, puts him on guard. Zenos does not withdraw, quite, but creates some distance. With his height and the length of his blade, your reach was only marginally larger than his. Not that it mattered – you were undying in this place as far as he knew – but his instincts overrule any intent to attack.

 **I was looking for fights, at least at first. When I started out, I was weak,** You took a few steps back to look at him in his entirety. **Like when I met you.**

In a moment you are on him, and Zenos feels the urge to laugh. How could he have thought that you were done with him? Done with the fight? His sword weighs nothing in his hand, cutting through the air as if it were no lighter than a reed.

Your blows he parries with unexpected ease. Eyes narrowing, he takes the opportunity to attack, to rend flesh and bone – and easily, he does. Just as before, he leaves gaping wounds on your chest and arms, blood spilling from every cut, black as the Abyss around him. This time you make no counterattack, your movements too slow, he moves around you easily. You are almost as weak and helpless as you were when first you met –

And you were still speaking?

The fire in your eyes had not faded one bit. Your words are just as harsh and biting as they had been this entire time. **I started out weak, and here was a challenge before me, insurmountable odds, an enemy I could not possibly conquer! I thrived off that kind of environment, prospered in those brutal battlefields.**

With less technique and fewer abilities, your movements seem trite and without threat, belonging. You slash again, and again, movements that are easy to evade, but when he goes in to attack, you sidestep him, leaving him at closer range than he had intended. Your bodies were nearly touching after your deft movements, but that left you even less room to maneuver than him.

It is trivial to reposition himself around you, arrange himself to be at your back to deliver a blow to your head that would make you suffer, invulnerable or no. A warrior of your caliber should have easily detected what he was trying to do, but at your speed he does it easily. Zenos would have gotten bored, if you hadn’t spun at him without warning, blade whipping through the air unpredictably to slice through armor and flesh on his shoulder.

 **Oh, how I loved it! I loved it! I thrived! Here was a world filled with opponents to overcome, obstacles to climb, ever new heights to which I could rise!** Your voice rises with the fire he sees in your eyes – or is it his eyes, reflected back at him? He does not know, it does not matter. There was no difference either way.

This, this was the beast, the _warrior_ he had longed to face! Your true form, not hiding behind a twisted laugh and that damnable smile, the _true_ Warrior of Light who had risen to the ranks of legends!

He knows he is bleeding somewhere, badly, some of the red on your blade is fresh, dripping, and your blood, as before, is black. His sword is heavy with it, his armor stained; Zenos cannot bring himself to care. You had fought to draw his blood, and you had endured his onslaught even as he drew yours. This was the honor only warriors could share, the equality only battle could bring.

Oh, how alive he had felt. No emptiness here, not even in this endless Abyss; no, his heart pounded, blood coursed through his veins even as it poured from him.

The cut on his shoulder burned, sending a wave of pain through him with every swing, causing his arm to shake, his hand to tremble in its movements. The feral grin on his face only widens.

After all, he had not emerged from this Abyss with any injuries before. He was starting to see the beauty of this place, this unending black in every direction, where he and you could dance to your heart’s content, uninterrupted and entirely focused on each other.

 **And then it all became…** Your blade missed its mark, swinging uselessly into the unending Abyss. To the completely and utterly foreign and transcendent surroundings you’d come to dwell in, a plane of existence a handful of beings in the world had ever seen.

Zenos does not have time to wonder how you could have possibly missed him; he only steps aside and attacks from a new angle, efforts redoubling even as weariness crept up his arm, causing every swipe of his weapon to send pangs into his injured shoulder.

It was for entertainment only; he knew his attacks were futile. The knowledge heated his blood even as is pounded through his veins, adrenaline coursing through him. However pleasant this may be, he could not forget his purpose here.

“Became what? This is who we are. This is _all_ we are! Your savages and titles be damned, you know the joy of these violent pursuits!”

**It became more than that. It became about them, not about me. I had to fight the battles they needed me to, or watch people die because of it.**

“Then _why did you leave?_ ” Zenos hisses the last words out savagely, viciously, as though he can tear the answer from you if only he asks you with enough vehemence. “You know what will happen, and you do not _care._ If you did you would not have left.”

 **I _do_ care!** Desperately you think back to the Soul of the Dark Knight, burning like an icy flame in your chest. You wouldn’t be able to walk this path if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be who you were if you didn’t care. You had to care. Zenos was right about other things, maybe, but not about this. You had always cared.

Zenos gives a scornful scoff, derisive and disgusted in a way you’ve never seen him before. Those blue eyes looking down on you; somehow it hurts more than any of your open wounds. “You are willfully deluding yourself – you don’t want to save them. You have only cared for the challenge. When you were no longer challenged in your position as their hero, you left.”

 **I saved them!** You shout at him, into the void, the darkness that laid beyond, with reckless abandon. **You said yourself that no one lives forever – one day they would be denied my protection, one way or another. I’m just making sure that when that time comes, they will be able to fight for themselves, at least.**

His laugh echoes through the darkness, impossibly loud in this infinite Abyss, “Convenient, that abandoning them had turned out to be the right answer, when I had reached out to you, and suddenly you _wanted_ to leave that life behind.”

You want to dismiss his assertion, you want to be unaffected but – but – it, it _was_ convenient, wasn’t it? But it was the _right thing_ to do, you knew it was, you’d already decided, you had resolved this to your satisfaction so you didn’t need to feel guilty anymore –

 **What would you know about that?** You speak without thinking, lashing out on instinct, accusing, **I told you the reason I left. You told me you would leave; I protected them!**

“An excuse.” His tone brooks no argument. “You wanted to leave, because you knew they did not deserve your protection. Even in leaving them you consigned them to their fate, people will _die_ because you left; you knew that from the start.”

**They were going to die either way! There was – even if I had saved them, eventually –**

“You were going to save everyone, were you not?” His voice is filled with mockery, wicked and cutting just as – just as Estinien’s had been – biting, ruthless, “Did you not tell me, that even if you knew your goal was impossible, you would still try? As I would not try?”

You’re too caught up in your own defense to recognize the bitterness in his last statement.

**I _am_ saving them. This is the right thing for everyone. **

“People will die.”

 **I will die.** Your words still his movements as surely as they still your own. **I will die, and once that happens people will die anyways. Even if I save everyone else, I cannot save myself. So they have to learn to save themselves.**

Zenos meets your eyes with his own deep blue ones. You can’t tell if they’ve darkened, or if they’re just reflecting the Abyss around you both.

“To save them, you would attempt the impossible, and relish in the challenge. But not for yourself.” You cannot tell if it is a question or a bitter, scalding insult. Zenos’s lips thin as you watch him flick his weapon into position. It is a movement not entirely lacking his former grace, but his precision and skill is clearly dulled, his absurd strength driving his motions in the place of any calculated maneuvering.

Denying your desires, denying the pleasure of the battlefield, the joy of fighting for the sake of fighting and nothing else. Zenos had lived for that feeling, felt like nothing without it, hunted it wherever he could for the whole of his life, and here you were, denying it altogether.

When you were the only one in the world who also felt this way. When you were the only one who could understand, and fulfill the desperate urge for violence within him, and in turn unleash the whole of your own might in a true clash of equals. You were the only one like him, and you were _denying it._

Still you wonder for what he says. What he meant. It was what you’d been arguing about this whole time, wasn’t it? Why you fought for other people, even when fighting was something you loved in itself. Why you’d ever bothered in the first place, if you were going to leave anyways. If you had ever really cared about them…

_You saved me._

**I hated it.** You say, finally, and you stare at the blackness beyond so you do not have to see Zenos’s reaction. **_Hated_ it. Hated being responsible for everything, hated being everyone’s hero, hated how I agonized over every death. I’ve resented everyone I’d saved. Even the people I’ve truly cared for – I’ve even been angry at them, at some point in my life.**

You hated losing, too. And you know you’d given Zenos what he wanted, but it felt good. It felt good to say it, just this once, without judgment or recourse. Even if it meant losing, just a little.

In the moment you speak Zenos is relieved, the tension leaves his arm. That was what he had been looking for – your admission, finally, that this path of heroism was worthless, that the people you protected were worthy of your distaste. This was what Zenos had been waiting to hear from you, _finally –_

**But still, even so…**

“No.” Zenos says aloud before he even thinks it. No, you were doing _so good,_ finally you _understood,_ and still, still you come to this! Absurd! What was this place, where you gave in to his will, admitted to your secrets, and set yourself on the path of self-destruction and suffering anyways?!

_I had warned you the Abyss was not your home. This place is not for people like you._

The next breath he takes escapes his mouth with a hiss – the last thing he had any interest in was listening to this voice’s drivel instead of yours.

 **I refuse to stop.** You give Zenos a smile, one he had come to disdain beyond all reason. How he wished he could wipe that expression off your face. **I have never had it in me to give up. I started the walking this path and now I’ll go until the end. Even if I’m not, even if I’m not _really_ a hero. Even if I’m not saving these people out of pure benevolence, even if all I’m fighting for is the love of battle… **

Of what path you speak, he knows not. This whole time you have spent talking circles around each other. Zenos knows the truest answer will come from your actions, from what you do in the coming days. Just as he knows your admission of hatred, the truth you’d told him this day would haunt you until you came to terms with your motivations.

He would make certain that he was there when you did.

‘Tis a bitter victory for all the blood Zenos had shed, his and yours, to prize this confession from you. He had not wanted to hear you admit you were not a hero in that tone of voice. That bitter, hollow voice that reminded him so much of his own – even still, when he had never held delusions like this, never aspired to anything beyond what truly mattered –

Even so, he cannot but see his reflection in your eyes. How long he had searched, how long he had waited, to find someone to challenge him, someone like you. Zenos knows he would have hunted forever to find you, no matter what.

 **Even if I’m not a good person, I’m still the Warrior of Light. I’m someone who will fight until the bitter end, offer up my soul for victory, and embrace the reckoning with open arms!** You raise your blade as you had once before, to strike him down and away from this place, he has no doubt.

Zenos still does not understand your smile, not completely. But he returns it with one of his own anyways. An ecstatic grin, colored entirely with the unrelenting perseverance both you and him shared.

“Truly, you and I… we are indeed one and the same.”

The thought, as the darkness surrounds you both and drowns you into the waking word, fills you with anger.

By all accounts, it is true.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **BLANKET SPOILER WARNING: 4.4 ONWARD**  
>  I've come to realize that outright marking the chapters that have the 4.4 spoilers would kind of spoil some of the things in the chapter. Since 4.4 has been out for a while now - I've even posted stuff that has to do with the 4.4 content - I've decided I'm just going to mark this chapter in the story, and warn everyone that from this point on, each chapter may contain 4.4+ spoilers. I can't say in advance what chapters, and to be fair I don't exactly have any in the story at the moment, but from what I know of my draft, it can change _a lot_. So, be ye warned from this point on!
> 
> My sincerest apologies for the several pop culture references in this chapter. I listened to Sorairo Days a while ago and Gurren Lagann is on Netflix. 
> 
> Anyways, I believe I've said before that this WoL is meant to be more representative of the _player_ than of any actual Player Character WoL. The _player_ \- yes, you - started playing FFXIV for fun. I mean, sure, it's possible people were fans of the characters and started the game just to see the story (not likely, with how slow the story starts off), but at the end of the day, it's a game. You play it for fun. Hence this WoL's admission that (s)he was fighting for the fun of it - it's something (s)he enjoys. Most people are really happy to see new content, the vast majority of which is dungeons, trials, etc. Even if you love the characters - which, hey, I do too - it's not what _started_ you on the game. We're all here to have fun. 
> 
> What this means for the WoL, we'll have to sit tight and see. I have a couple subplots to resolve/develop, and honestly, I don't actually have an outright resolution to the whole "WoL values human life and Zenos doesn't" issue, because. Like. It's. Pretty cut and dry, you know? WoL thinks people matter. Zenos doesn't. Easy to see how the conversation would go - I feel like it made for a lot of really bad, repetitive dialogue in this chapter but I also worked pretty hard on this and there are a lot of lines I really liked, so I kept everything in. "People matter!" "Do NOT." "They do so!" "Yeah? Then why'd you ditch them?" "I... uh, I didn't!" "Yes you did! You didn't want to deal with them so you ditched!" "I'm HELPING them okay?" "Yeah, right. You WANTED to leave!" 
> 
> *descends into dissociation state* I just... summarized this whole chapter in those dialogue lines that look like a conversation between 5-year-olds... :') 
> 
> Better get along with my next chapter. Believe it or not - I think you guys could believe it, actually - this chapter has been split because if I get into the habit of putting things off, we'll all be waiting 'till New Years. The next chapter shouldn't suffer so much from it, just because this chapter is so very long. Probably the longest so far. Originally it would have been over 10k words, but like I said, it would have been easy to split up. Much like the last chapter, I have to get the WoL and Zenos to think about certain things, develop a sideplot or two, and have a little more WoL/Zenos interaction, just to get the ball rolling with the ship. I have a lot of ideas about where this confrontation is going to go already, so hopefully it'll be fun to read when it comes out!
> 
> And yeah, this took me a while - I got distracted with another fic - but I've also been doing finals stuff, so... you know. We'll see if I can't go back to my once-a-week sort of deal, but take comfort in the fact that every update you get will probably be very long. And good luck on your finals, my fellow students in all educational backgrounds!


	16. Just Like You

“Did I _say_ ,” You hissed at the huge Garlean as you shoved him into the wall, “That you could do that again?”

Rage filled your voice, but all Zenos saw before him was a desperate beast, lashing out to avoid his claws. Struggling, posturing, to hide its weakness. He has never needed posturing; he did not harbor such a thing as weakness. Why you tolerate this frivolity he did not understand – but then, that was the point of this little… excursion.

“Did you _say_? It matters not what you have said; clearly I do not need your permission.” Zenos said, gazing down at you imperiously.

His tone only angered you more. Why would he talk to you like that? What made him think he could talk to you like that? He thought he was so much more powerful than you, he thought he had you all figured out? Just meeting up with yourself as Fray in the Abyss a couple times, and suddenly Zenos thought he could do and say whatever he wanted to you?

 _Pathetic._ It was his voice that rang in your mind, not Fray’s. Would that damnable word he’d called you ring in your head forever?

“I am not your subordinate, _Zenos._ ” You said, spitting out his name in the vain hope it would remind him of your position outside of his nation. “You can’t do whatever you please to me. I won’t allow it.”

“As I said, it is of no consequence what you _allow._ I will do as I wish.” He watched your face contort in anger with a visceral glee. Be angry; snap and rage and bite to protect yourself from his barbed words, anything but that miserable smile. What were those ideals worth, if they were what made you smile so?

Your hand on the front of his armor was his answer, gripping it hard and holding him against the metal wall as you closed in on him, a beast eager to prove its fearlessness by rushing headlong at its enemy. Even as you assaulted him, Zenos did not so much as flinch. It was a new feeling, being lifted up by another person’s strength. Phantom pain laced faintly through his shoulder. It only excited him more.

He smiled down at you, eyes catching the light in a way that you might have found pretty if you hadn’t wanted him dead at the moment.

“You can _try._ ” Your said, no louder than a whisper. It did not need to be – Zenos was right there, face to face with you.

 _Let him try,_ Fray said, and you could feel your darkside warm with approval. Even the Abyss had its flames. _Let him try. He can see what it gets him. Just try._

“Have I not already? What is it you so fear my knowing?” Zenos said the word _hero_ much like you had said the word _try._ “You have already left. Your choice is already made. What secrets do you yet harbor?”

 _Oh, hells._ It was your own resilience you called on, then. A familiar strength, flowing and vast within you like an ocean of aether. The one you had long relied upon, to be the Warrior of Light that Hydaelyn needed. You would protect the people who were depending on you, no matter what. Even after everything.

“I told you, you can’t just do as you please!” Even Zenos had to understand – even if you _had_ no secrets, you wouldn’t want someone in your head uninvited. “Those are _my_ memories, my past. If I want to share it with you, I will.”

A low chuckle had you and your darkside seething once again. “I know you do not want to share. I am not aware why, but neither am I in the habit of waiting for my prize to fall into my claws.”

You met his eyes with fiery resilience. He stared back, unaffected, smiling that smile even as you pressed him against the wall. Your arm was almost growing tired from the effort of it. The monster of a man.

“Beat me, then.” You bit out, voice rising.

He grinned. Bared his teeth.

“As I have, twice before?”

You’d call that a petty taunt, but Zenos would probably call it a calculated strike. It was.

“If you’re so sure of yourself, why do you keep using the Resonance? Why don’t you just _fight me_ already?” A question you should have asked long ago.

Zenos loved battle, loved war, loved his _hunt._ Why did he offer you his hand and peace with his nation? You knew he wanted to fight you. That might be all he wanted. So why didn’t he just do it already? What was he waiting for? It was easy enough to see he was waiting for the right moment. But what stopped _now_ from being the right moment?

“Is it not plain to you? Warrior of Light, how far you have fallen – just how much less a warrior you are than you once were, hollow-eyed and empty.” _Empty like me,_ Zenos didn’t say. He didn’t have to.

“Like _you,_ Prince?” If your use of his name didn’t bother him, maybe the title would. “You want to tell me I’m empty, hollow, and you think it’s made me weak. But your life is emptier still, filled with a meaningless pursuit of battle.”

“Meaning? Why should I need such a thing as meaning?” He said, expression smooth and calm. “You know how it feels – to dance upon the razor’s edge, to struggle desperately to render death upon your foes – and to deal it like a merciless god unto the unworthy. What is your _meaning_ in the face of such pure and unadulterated sensation, the power of life and death beating in your heart?”

“My meaning has made me _strong,_ ” You growled, pressing him back harder, hand clenching hard against his armor. “Do you even – do you even know why I started down this path, became the Warrior of Light? It wasn’t the thrill of being a god on the battlefield.”

“You cannot mean to tell me you feel nothing.” Zenos said, his voice quick and harsh, rising with your interruption, “I saw it. When we sparred, when we fought in the Abyss – you _love_ this dance between us, you _live_ for it, just as I have.”

“But it’s not just about how it feels!” You snapped, turning to face him with a familiar fire in your eyes. Over and over he said these things, and _still_ he didn’t understand what mattered to you. “I – I like fighting, I enjoy a challenge, it’s fun, but for me it’s about – it was about _who I am._ I was – back before all of this…”

You gestured around uselessly, feeling his eyes on you all the stronger. A strange feeling builds in the pit of your stomach. You didn’t usually talk this much. It was hard, to say everything the way you wanted to say it, put the words in the right way. Maybe that’s why you’d never been as strong in the Echo as Minifilla. Or the Ascians.

“Before I was the Warrior of Light, I was just… another adventurer, another nobody. What I fought for wasn’t to become a great hero, or to seek out great foes – it was to become a better version of myself. And fighting was the way I did that, and that’s what mattered to me. I was ecstatic because I was someone who could fight primals and live to tell the tale, I’d grown so much and it felt like, no matter what happened – if even the whole _world_ was against me, I’d grow strong enough to face that, too.”

You fought because fighting made you feel good about yourself, made you feel like you were strong, like you were _worth_ something. The quests you took, menial and world-saving alike, you accepted them because the experience made you feel like you were… like you were _more._

A weight settled on your shoulders, almost unnoticed until it had fully borne down on you. Stupid, this was all stupid. How was Zenos supposed to understand any of this? He had always been powerful. He may be like the person you are now, but the person you were before, the passionate adventurer who hadn’t yet borne the burden of wars and alliances resting on their shoulders.

Would Zenos have bothered to take a second glance at that person from so long ago? Would he have let that adventurer live?

“The power to transcend.” Zenos said, closing his eyes in what looked to be a moment of brief contemplation. Brilliant blue flashed open faster than you could stare at it. “What of it? If your purpose was always just to become a greater warrior, then why did you insist you wanted to save people? That you would do so even if it were impossible?”

You didn’t answer, just stared solidly into his eyes. Zenos had gotten enough answers, today. The secrets of the Dark Knights were yours to know, and his not to.

Finally he lifted his arm to grab at your own, grip harsh and unrelenting and of no concern to you. It was worth the entertainment value of watching his lips twitch into a frown, anyways.

“You never cared about protecting them. You only ever wanted a battle worthy of your efforts, to face real foes who could test your mettle and push you to new heights.” Daring blue eyes bored into your own as his tone sharpened.

A scoff was all he got. All he deserved. “You think you have all the answers? Then you can stop these absurd little interrogations.”

“I would not _need_ to probe if you would just answer my questions!” Zenos said, meeting your grip on his collar with his other hand wrapping around your wrist, “Are you truly so afraid that I would come to know more about you? The Warrior of Light, terrified I might discover the reason you choose to be a hero, the truth of your character, when the whole of it was plain from the very beginning. That you love battle as dearly as I, that you feel alive only in the face of a true challenge!”

“So?!” Suddenly you were shouting, you didn’t know why but all you could think was, “What is it to you if that’s how I felt about it? How I still feel about it. It doesn’t change anything! I’m still the Warrior of Light.”

This reaction was obviously what Zenos was looking for, and had you been thinking clearly you might have been frustrated about giving it to him. Fortunately, Fray was just as angry. _Come on, fight us, use your Resonance one more time, we’ll pull you into the Abyss. We’ll show you what it means to be terrified_.

Still those eyes bored into you. “Because you are _like me._ We are the same, you and I, the only equal the other could ever hope for in this world.”

“No, we aren’t.”

The ensuing silence was such that you could have heard a pin drop. If you tried harder, you almost thought you could have heard the sound of his heart beating.

“Have you learned nothing from the Abyss?” You demanded when he refused to speak. “We’re nothing alike! I fight for other people, I fight for myself, I fight to become stronger – you’re doing it for, for _fun!_ You’re just trying to enjoy yourself!”

Blue eyes shining like steel, sharp and cold and unrelenting – they gaze into you such that you want nothing more than to look away. If you were anyone else, Zenos’s grip on your wrist would have broken it. Your eyes were drawn to his lips when they curved into a slight smile, and then lower to your own hand, skin stretched taut over your knuckles from the force you exerted. It wasn’t nearly as painful as it looked, but only because your hand had grown numb.

“Oh? In the Abyss I saw a warrior just like me, one who lived for the thrill of battle. One who told me that all your fighting was for the joy of it, reveling in your power and the dance between life and death. That is who you are, _hero._ That is who you have always been!”

His voice grew loud, his smile maniac. Your arm began to feel tense, aching as you held him up and Zenos clutched at your wrists.

“You are a predator amongst prey, a hunter who slays beasts on behalf of insects. As if you could descend to that dark, empty place for another’s sake? Pointless. You have only yourself within the Abyss, and it is not thoughts of others that sustains you. It is your own will, the sheer force of your power, high above and beyond the pathetic creatures you claim to care for.”

You couldn’t shove him back harder, couldn’t retreat. Frantically your mind searched for something to say, a denial that would _shut him up_ already without agreeing to his every word.

“It is _empty_ there. All that had ever been within the Abyss is you – and now myself as well. Do not claim that it was for your allies that you dragged me into that place and fought me. Fought me like a savage, like a _beast,_ with no thought or care for your own well being, throwing your entire being into your assault. There is nothing inside you but that realm of endless black,” Zenos’s eyes darkened at you as though reflecting the very Abyss of which he spoke, “And the joy of losing yourself in battle.”

Lips curled in a vicious smirk, you met his gaze face on. “Oh? Care to visit the Abyss again, since you know it so well? Just being there will kill you. Someone like you can’t even survive that place.”

Zenos’s eyes narrowed, his grin melting into hard neutrality. Someone like him? _You_ were someone like him.

Unbidden, the words came to his mind. _This place is not for people like you._

“Oh? And why not? You claim to know so much more than I – so, enlighten me.” Zenos would not break his gaze, would not look away. He wanted to hear this. 

 _The warrior is right. You would not try._ Accusations from a sourceless voice that spoke to him only in the void were not worth his attention.

But this? He wanted very much to hear this.

You barked out a dry laugh. “It’s not… _for_ you. The Abyss is – the power of the Dark Knights, it’s not – _you’re_ not, the kind of person who could ever use it. Live with it.”

Zenos gazed down at you, not phased in the slightest by your words. Anything you could do, Zenos could do as well. Your strength in battle, your Echo. This, too, Zenos would know, if not master for himself.

“The kind of person who goes _there_ is…” You paused, searching for words, and Zenos allowed himself to squeeze your wrist in impatience. Predictably, it did nothing. You were just as unaffected by it as he would have been. He watched you pause and gather your thoughts, gazing past him as though something had caught your attention in the distance.

It was impossible, Zenos knew. The press of the wall against his back told him all too well; there was nothing past him for you to look at.

“You go there if you have no one else. If you have nothing else.” You said, voice low and somber.

Your eyes were emptier than they had been before. Empty like that blackness. Perhaps it was merely a part of you, just as the Resonance had become a part of him.

“If there’s nothing you can do, if you’re facing impossible odds and challenges that you can’t overcome… but still, you _must_ win. You wouldn’t know what that feels like, Zenos.” He blinked sharply at the sound of his name, almost entranced by your stare which was as hollow as it was “You don’t fight to win. But I had to, I was willing to do anything, _anything_ to become stronger, more powerful, to become who I needed to be. Who the world needed to be.”

He does not miss the bitterness in your last statement. Strangely, Zenos didn’t feel any satisfaction from it; the will to make a smug retort faded as soon as you spoke your next words.

“The greatest force in this world, the power to surpass every imaginable limit… It requires sacrifice. Give a part of yourself, your aether, to the Abyss, and the Abyss with give unto you.”

Again, that smile. Zenos felt a burning in his chest, seething at the mere sight of it. Just what was it that entertained you about this? Did you enjoy this agony, being sapped of your spirit, tied to that empty plane of existence and reliant upon it for your power?

The thought went through his mind, of course; Zenos could not ignore it if he wished to. If even one such as you was willing to endure this, with how powerful you were – just what _was_ the Abyss? What powers had it granted you?

What powers would it grant him? _You do not have the strength to master the abyss; the Warrior of Light does._

He could feel his fingers digging into your arm. Still you did not flinch. It reminded him terribly of that first meeting of yours. In an instant, the image of you came to his mind – bleeding from a thousand wounds he had inflicted on you. Black blood that stained your armor, trickled from your injury. All the while, you swung at him without a care, unrelenting and uncontrollable as the Abyss within which you fought.

Zenos released your arm.

“I don’t… want to go there.” Your voice was quiet. He did not like it. “I don’t want to… I never wanted to be someone, who had to go there. I wanted to be powerful enough that I wouldn’t need it. And now I am.”

The words tasted like ash in your mouth. _Perhaps our mouth is dry. Gods know we rarely talk so much._

Fray, making a joke without sarcasm? It was almost enough to frighten you. Either way, when your eyes wandered back to meet Zenos’s stare, hard and blue like crystal, you had nothing in you but to sigh and keep smiling.

“Now I am, and I don’t have to… Well, I suppose I do have to go there when you make it your business to try and stick around in my mind. But what matters is I have the strength I need, I’m the person I wanted to be, now.”

Even as you say the words they feel empty. Hollow. Like crystal drained of aether. “I’m the Warrior of Light. The hero. I fight to save people, Zenos. I’m not like you.”

“Tell me, then. Look me in the eyes, warrior, and tell me you do not love it as I do. Look at me!” The command draws your gaze up almost against your will, where the ice has grown so cold it burns like fire – like lightning.

You couldn’t tell him, of course, because it wasn’t true. But neither was it everything.

“Tell me you fought for the good of the people alone, tell me you miss your friends and allies, tell me you wish to return to rescue them once more from the depths of their incompetence. Tell me, hero. Tell me!” Zenos said, voice rising with every word, smile growing imperceptibly.

You couldn’t. It wasn’t true, none of it was true. All you could do was worry about them, feel responsible for them. You didn’t even miss them. _We wouldn’t have left if we could still miss them._ After everything, you had lost even that.

“I left behind the people, and I left behind that land. I can’t ever leave behind who I was, what I did. What I am.” Thordan’s words echoed in your head. Echoed, Echo.

 **_What_ ** _are you?_

If you told Zenos about it, would he understand?

“Are you truly so afraid of letting go of those worthless ideals?” Zenos said lowly as he gazed down at you. “You admitted what started you on that path was the love of battle, and what kept you scouring the world for greater foes. It has taken its toll on you, and still you cling to the mantle of hero long past its use.”

_Worthless? Past their use? How can he claim to understand us, thinking like that?_

His fingers dug hard into your arm. If you could still feel your arm, it would probably hurt, too. Holding him up with one hand was getting tiresome – you slammed your other into his chest, hard enough to dent the wall behind him and draw a scoff from his lips.

“My ideals were everything they needed to be. They still are.” Against Fray’s better judgement, you tried in vain to explain. Even you couldn’t tell why you bothered. “Even though I didn’t want to do everything for everyone, I still got something out of it. All that experience made me who I am. It made me _stronger._ ”

“And do you claim you wanted to be stronger to protect those people?” Zenos didn’t wait for an answer, “If that was your goal you would never have left.”

“Whatever you want to believe, I did want to save people. Even if that wasn’t why I became a hero, that was still something that mattered to me. I don’t regret any of it.” Zenos could say whatever he wanted, it wouldn’t change the fact that you had gone above and beyond – you had fought battles you had no interest in fighting, fetched and delivered and gathered, drove yourself to the very brink in being the people’s hero.

He didn’t understand. You shouldn’t have expected him to know what a hero was.

Zenos’s eyes narrowed. “And what do you fight for now, Warrior of Light? Do you even still claim to be so, after you have abandoned those who gave you the title?”

“That **is** me!” You shouted, finally frustrated with this show of ignorance on his part, “You don’t understand at all, you never had to live my life! You always knew who you were!”

His lips parted in surprise, and finally his gaze was broken when Zenos blinked. What did you know about him?

Your eyes were burning with a thing Zenos did not recognize but he felt still like a flame against his skin. “You always know what you want! You never had to think about what other people wanted, weigh your desires against their needs. When have _you_ needed to grow stronger, to improve yourself the way I’ve been fighting to do forever?”

What did you know about him, indeed. He had only been talking about the ways _you_ were like _him._ He had not considered the ways in which he was like you. Or if such ways even existed.

“I have become greater, more powerful,” Zenos said, suddenly feeling the weight of your gaze on his, “The Resonance has proven itself against even the Echo. And still there are no true challenges for me to face, besides you-”

“You don’t get it,” Zenos heard your broken laugh, and tightened his grip around your wrist. “You don’t understand.”

He refused to hear this. It was not what he wanted, not what he had planned for; you were _not_ this person. You can’t be saying this, not to him, you can’t believe this. After all he had seen in your mind, after all the battles he’d fought, after all he had seen of you. You did _not_ believe this.

“We are one and the same, Warrior. You know it to be true; this is the way we are, this is who we are.”

You did know it to be true, but it changed _nothing._ Even if you and him shared the same feelings during battle, even if your motives were the same.

You were the Warrior of Light, and he was the Prince of Garlemald.

“That’s the same, sure. But you’re just in it for the joy it brings you, for the thrill of the fight. I can’t fight for that anymore. My life is worth too much, I have to worry about the world I’d leave behind. In any case, I’ve always had to fight for other people, fight to save, I could never pick my battles.”

“Then be who you were before, do not let these ideals drag on any longer!” Zenos commanded, pressing down hard on your arm, “You know you cannot sustain this, you know this cannot last, there is no purpose, no reason to keep going on like this! Leave your life as a hero behind you, in the worthless, fading past where it belongs!”

Even under his enormous might, you do not bend.

“You just don’t understand. That **is** me, Zenos.” Your eyes were tired again, weary in a way Zenos cannot stand, cannot tolerate.

“What.” Impatience drips from the low growl of his voice as he gripped your wrists with a frightening intensity. Your fingers pushed past his armor dug into his collar bone, and a flash pain shot through him as you did. “What is it that I _do not understand_. Cease your diversions and tell me what you mean.”

“That’s all I have. That’s all I’ve always had. I don’t have a family, a home, a life. I don’t even have friends, just people who need my help. I fight for Eorzea, for the people who need me. I’m the Warrior of Light, the Weapon of Light. I don’t have anything else. That’s all I am, Zenos.”

Zenos yae Galvus felt a piercing feeling in his chest that almost matched the pain in his shoulder, the bite of your fingertips against his neck.

“What you have, where you are from – useless details, all of it,” Zenos said, but he could see his words ring hollow against your stoic, tired face, “All you are is a _warrior._ The victor of countless battles and struggles, who walks not with death but rises above it.”

A choked laugh is all he received for his effort. “No. I am, I have always been, the Warrior of Light. Even if some of the things you say are true about me, the person you’re looking for behind the title doesn’t exist. I’ve never been more than that.”

“But you have more. I have seen more, from you,” For the first time in his life, Zenos had to pick his words. Had to measure them carefully, look for the intended effect. “There must be something that you want for yourself. You must harbor some desires outside the pitiful bounds of your station, some experience in this world you yet long to savor.”

“I don’t know what I want anymore. I don’t, I don’t _get_ to want anything. I just couldn’t keep going on like I had, the world couldn’t keep going on, relying on me. That’s why I left.”

“Then you’ve come seeking…” You hadn’t come seeking anything. Like a hound running from its master, you had run from your Eorzean commanders. Fleeing the source of your willing slavery only because he had offered it. You had been avoiding pain, not chasing after your desires.

Had he been wrong? Had it not been an excuse, when you insisted that meant the best for your former allies by leaving? You claimed to have nothing outside of your position, but still. What worthier pursuit could there be, than the wars and gods you had fought? Would he not have done the same in your place, seeking out the greatest possible foes?

Even though you had confessed you shared the joy of battle with him, that piercing sensation spread from your nails biting into his skin. An entirely unfamiliar discomfort Zenos found himself growing more and more annoyed with. He twisted his hand on your wrist, _hard_. Seeing your stoic, tired expression crack into a wince of pain was well enough compensation.

You dropped him, then, and stepped away.

Zenos stepped forward.

“What do you want, Zenos?” You said with a sigh, looking up at him blandly. “What was this all about? You think I’m a hypocrite for fighting because I want to fight, while still acting as a hero? You want me to admit I’m wrong, is that it? You want me to say I’m lying and all I care about is violence and bloodshed, like a _savage?_ Is that it?”

“I wish for the warrior who surpassed all limits, who balked at no challenge, who pursued even the impossible.” You heard Zenos’s voice say, calmer than it had been before. Quiet, almost. “That warrior alone, is who I intend to face. That and no other.”

 _He really thinks nothing of anything but battle._ You didn’t even need Fray to point it out, it was that obvious. That was what Zenos had wanted from the very start. At the very least he was consistent. Determined. Predictable.

You wondered if he had the foresight in battle that you did, with the Resonance. Like Fordola. He hadn’t quite acted like it earlier, but then, you’d never seen Zenos bother to avoid damage, even when you were strong enough to actually hurt him.

“And you think I’m not that warrior now?” You asked.

In an instant he was on you, stepping forwards rapidly to pace you back and backwards against the table. You should have known better than to retreat, but the sudden burst of motion practically frightened you into it.

“Are you unaware even of the extent of your deterioration? Of the fire, the strength, the _hunger_ for battle that has run dry in your eyes? Mayhap you have fooled your friends and allies, but the strength of your blade speaks for you.”

Was he implying –

“You think I’m _weaker?”_ It took considerable effort on your part not to draw your weapon on the spot and let Zenos converse with your blade if he thought it said so much. “I’m far more powerful than I was when we first met. And even back then – even then I’d been killing primals and beastmen and fighting wars on behalf of others. I can be no worse now.”

“Neither were you this empty shell of a warrior, who claims to have nothing.”

“You’re wrong.” The words fill the small room and linger. “This was always who I am.”

Zenos responded with a raised brow. “This from one whose goal was to be constantly changing – _growing?_ You claim you could not fight for fighting’s sake _anymore._ You may as well confess that you wish to, once again.”

“What. Do. You. Want.” In circles and circles this conversation went. Why couldn’t Zenos just fight it out like he obviously wanted to? What was all this _talking_ about? Even the Resonance would be better than this.

The memory of his metal-clad gauntlets digging into your skin was brought to the forefront as he reached out to grab your arm again. “This hesitance, this discontent of yours – that insistence on dedicating yourself for matters of no true merit. Cease it, and live freely, as you were meant to.”

Insistence? It occurred to you that Zenos may know more than he was letting on – but then again, he had been quite annoyed that you bothered with speaking to Maxima. He might not think anything of politics, but he could almost certainly tell when it was being played.

 _If that was his game, would he not come out and say so? He is not a man given to subterfuge._ More and more it was seeming that Zenos had discovered Estinien’s presence or Lucia’s true loyalties. Still, that was a brand of subterfuge all its own. If he knew he would easily be able to leverage their presence against you, so why wouldn’t he?

 _If he wanted to kill them before we had a chance to intervene._ Fray concluded. It was probably true, but still. Zenos didn’t kill people for fun. He _fought_ for fun. Neither of them could put up a real fight against him, though, so what reason was there for him to bother? If he knew Estinien and Lucia were here, the obvious thing to do would be to confront you with their existence and make demands of you in return for their safety.

Zenos would think very little of your attachment to their lives. _Worthless,_ he would call them. He’d been trying to convince you that fighting for the likes of them was worthless, as well. So trying to persuade you like this, if his intentions were to kill them without you knowing, would be somewhat worthless.

Trying to persuade you not to protect them before revealing he knew about them and forcing you to bargain for their lives… what would be the point of trying to get you to bargain, anyways? If he succeeded in convincing you, his attempt to bargain would fail, and he would gain nothing. If he failed to convince you, his attempt to bargain would succeed – but then what was the point in trying to convince you?

Either way it was difficult to know, especially because this was still completely hypothetical on your part. Zenos may well have no idea that Estinien was on this ship, or that Lucia was not what she said she was. The fact that you hadn’t been able to find her was worrying, but if she had been found then surely Zenos knew.

_Unless he thinks we don’t know._

Cold ran through you at the thought, and the heat of proximity quickly faded as you turned to the side and slipped away, putting distance between you and him. Zenos, too, stepped back, until he stood right next to the mechanical device that held his swords.

If Zenos caught either of them, he would immediately know they were traitors. And if he thought you _didn’t know_ they were on board the ship, there was nothing to stop him from executing them on the spot.

 _Without first interrogating them? Doubtful._ Perhaps, but perhaps not.

A few steps away, Zenos crossed his arms, shifting his weight in the silence.

As wise a strategist as Zenos was, there was no reason for him _not_ to kill them immediately. Certainly he would know that it would be better to interrogate them, but you suspected Zenos would also know it would be better not to execute his own men without reason, as the incident with Asahi had shown you.

 _Wait – the assassination._ You blinked, breaking your stare with Zenos, whose brows drew together minutely. _He **will** take them alive, at least long enough for them to signal us or tell him we know they’re here. _

Yes. He would have to, in order to confirm – the _Resonance!_ Zenos had so long ago suggested to you that you might use the Echo to help the investigation. Had that been a hint that _he_ had a similar power? That he intended to use it so? Whatever Zenos had thought of back then, he definitely knew now how to use the Resonance to view memories as you had.

Inevitably, when he did he would discover the connection between you and the others. If he got Estinien, he would likely discover that you had known they were on the ship, and would notice their absence.

Outside your conscious knowledge, a sigh of relief escaped through you, soft but audible. Zenos reached over to his rotating sheath stood – you’d never seen him without the thing at least in the same room – and spun it, filling the room with the light magnetic whirr, and the repetitive, soft clicks.

You didn’t quite jump at the noise, but immediately your eyes were drawn to it. _Is he making ready for battle?_

That wasn’t likely, but you tensed on instinct. Under your scrutiny Zenos allowed his lips to quirk slightly up, never taking his eyes off his weapon.

“Another matter capturing your attention, Eikon Slayer?” He said dryly, tilting his head at the sheath, watching it spin, and spin, and spin.

You had to resist the urge to take an audibly deep breath. “No.”

“Ah. Of course not.” Zenos reached over and put a hand on the top of the sheath, halting its movement.

Silence fell quickly. He still didn’t look at you. His eyes were fixed on his swords, turned away from you. Rich blue dulled to almost grey in reflection of the metal walls.

 _He has to suspect_ something. _Otherwise, why else would he keep doing this?_ You could hear the sound of yourself breathing in the silence. If you listened harder, you might have been able to hear the sound of Zenos breathing.

You didn’t wait that long.

“Listen. You said you wanted me to stop hesitating? You want me to live freely? Is that not what I’m doing right now, leaving Eorzea to travel with you, doing my best to fight you wherever you face me?”

With every rhetorical question your voice grows louder, more impatient. You took a step towards Zenos, shoving the nearby chair aside.

“What do you think I’m hesitating about? What do you think is stopping me from living freely? I told you I mean to leave Eorzea to itself, and you told me that was some convenient excuse! I told you I care about saving people, you told me I was _wrong!_ I told you why I became Warrior of Light, you told me I was wrong again!”

His eyes remained fixed on his sheath, his expression unchanging. That slight and irritating smirk never fading.

“I even asked you what you wanted from me. And then you tell me this – this _nonsense_ about how you think I’m not really alive, because I’m not fighting for the reasons you _think_ I should fight for!”

You took another step forwards, then another. Zenos didn’t even blink.

He still. Wasn’t. Looking. At. You.

“Why does it matter to you what I’m fighting for anyways? It’s gotten me this far. Whatever that’s happened, it’s all made me this person who can do battle with you as an equal.”

It wasn’t a yell anymore, just a quiet question, a simple statement of facts. Zenos stood before you, face turned away. _Just who does he think we are?_

Before you can think about it you snatched his arm, quickly yanking him away from his sword. Zenos didn’t move, of course, but he finally, _finally_ met your eyes with his, the trite amusement on his face fading into a neutral boredom.

“What does it matter to you?” You repeated, letting go of him as you returned his heavy stare. “What does it matter? Don’t you have what you want?”

Zenos made a low sound, a hum of acknowledgement.

“Hm. You ask the wrong questions. You think I do this for my own satisfaction? Perhaps in part that is so. But you have mistaken me. I meant not to dwell upon your petty heroic conceits. I care only that they do nothing for you, as they would for me.”

A harsh sigh escaped your mouth, more a curt exhalation than an expression of any kind of sadness. “You still aren’t telling me what I want to know. _Why do you care?”_

You tried hard not to show the surprise on your face when a dark rasp took on your words. Fray, it seemed, had felt the need to speak them with you.

Zenos returned your gaze with eyes no longer muted and impassive. They were blue, deep and vivid and staring so deep into you that you could feel Fray stiffen under his stare.

“You and I are the same, Warrior. I would not suffer any such burdens as you have accepted to restrain me, to prevent me from doing as I pleased. There is no place for cages in a hunt, and less still on the battlefield.”

“So you don’t like the idea that I’m not at my best? Has it occurred to you,” You said, poison dripping off your every word, “I don’t _need_ to be at my best to kill you?”

He stared a moment.

“So that is your desire, is it?”

You didn’t have an answer for that.

“To fight and kill me, put me down like the mad dog your allies think I am?” Now it was Zenos’s voice getting louder, rising with each phrase. “Slay me and get it over with? Do you perhaps intend to poison me then? Come to my room as I sleep? Kill me in that sparring match after we were interrupted? Keep me trapped within your Abyss beyond return?”

You didn’t have an answer. You didn’t have an answer, and Zenos knew that.

He had to hold back a smile as he spoke. Your stoic expression was beginning to tell him more and more, after encountering you so often. You didn’t have an answer to what he was saying, because you didn’t want to kill him.

Despite how much your pitiful little friends would want you to, despite how much _good_ it would do the world, how much it would align with your _morals._ Zenos had known almost from the very start. You weren’t fighting him to kill him. You were fighting him to _fight!_

“Is that your will? Tell me, Warrior of Light, do you _truly_ want me dead?”

You closed your eyes. Zenos kept staring, almost glowering at your face, as though he could prize his answers from it through sheer force alone.

“You and I are the same, is that right?” You said, quietly.

You opened your eyes with a strange slowness. Zenos watched you do it and replied. “We are. This, you cannot deny.”

“Then yes.”

You spun on your heel, walked around the table and to the door. Zenos stared after you. Silently.

Fray seethed with every step you took, fuming with you so violently you almost preferred a confrontation in the Abyss. Finally your darkside became unbearable, and you allowed the voice to speak through you. Speak for you.

“But we aren’t.”

With that, you left the room. And Zenos with his thoughts.

 

 

 

Sick.

You felt sick.

The Echo, the Resonance. It was clear enough that the two functioned much the same. The power to break down barriers, the power to reach into the souls of other people. The thrill of battle you could so clearly remember from the recent spar, and from your encounters within the Abyss even more so.

Zenos had been trying to understand you in the only way he knew how, the monster of a man had wanted to understand you, and you’d shoved him away. That darkness within yourself – no, just your true self, the person you really were – had pushed him away, you weren’t able to give him what he wanted.

 _Really? That is what bothers you about this exchange?_ Pathetic. You’d served others for so long, and now you were worried about how you could not grant _Zenos’s_ wishes, of all people. Hadn’t the whole point of coming here been that you weren’t going to be a slave?

No… no, even without Fray telling you, you knew it wasn’t true. It wasn’t about helping Zenos or giving him what he wanted. Zenos was the only person in the world you’d denied so fervently, opposed with such strength.

He was also the only person you had ever pushed away. The only person you would have ever needed to push away. Even Haurchefant… well, there were reasons aplenty why he had not reached out more to you. It meant little in comparison to the kindnesses he had shown you, but ultimately, the elezen had never tried to understand you the way Zenos had.

Never interrogated you, invaded your privacy.

Your hands clenched into fists, and you had to make a conscious effort to relax them. To not appear weak, controlled by your anger. He wasn’t present, but you couldn’t get into the habit of letting your emotions run wild.

This was a battle you would not lose. Not to Zenos.

 _I thought you wanted him dead. I thought you wanted **you** dead. _ Fray wasn’t one to let anything go, you knew. You _were_ Fray, after all. _I denounce any connection to suicidal idiots._

Always a relief, that realism.

No, you didn’t want Zenos dead. But you wanted to, and wasn’t that just the same thing? Everything would be easier if you were really the person he accused you of being.

No point lying to yourself now. Morals? Ideals? Herosim and Friendship? Ha. You hadn’t accompanied Yugiri for any of those reasons. You’d wanted a second shot at the warrior you hadn’t been able to beat. You wanted a challenge, a real fight for once.

To not have to care about how some idiot Domans felt about reclaiming their nations, to not see their pathetic hopelessness and know that it was _your_ job to fix it. To not know that Lyse was counting on you because there was _nothing_ she could do on her own, to free this country or the other.

All that faded away on the battlefield. All you had to worry about was him and you, and how to win. And gods, it had been _fun._ Facing him the first time had kept you from abandoning the Resistance to deal with its own damn problems, facing him the second had secured your assistance with Doma and your determination to free Ala Mhigo.

And it still wasn’t enough for him. Because when you met him in that throne room, you realized it was the end of the line for you and Zenos. You would die to him, or worse, you would kill him. And then you’d have to live on, with nothing to look forward to at all. Only endless requests, endless demands and the endless helplessness everyone around you seemed to exhibit.

You sighed. Where did all this malevolence come from? Hadn’t you decided, hadn’t you understood that everyone you knew was only trying to survive? It wasn’t their fault they were weak. Being weak didn’t make their lives meaningless, or worthless. To them it was worth everything. To them it was all they had.

But that argument could only carry you so long, when fighting for nameless, faceless masses you never had any great attachment to. It especially began to fade as saving them became more and more painful and tiresome, and leaving them to their fate became a more and more appealing idea.

If you and Zenos really were the same, if that’s how you both really felt, then wasn’t it better for you both to die?

 _Shut up. That isn’t you. You know it isn’t._ You didn’t _want_ to die, of course. But what was realistically left for you, once everything was finished here? Zenos, you were quite certain, didn’t want you dead. Even if he didn’t quite realize it yet, himself. He was only interested in the fight, in getting his enjoyment out of it.

If you were like him, you’d hate him for that. You’d want him to want you dead, fight you to the absolute fullest, holding nothing back. If you were like him, you’d _want_ him to want you dead. And you’d want him dead, because that would be the only way to give _your_ all into the battle.

If you were a monster like Zenos, it wouldn’t hurt to think of killing him. But you weren’t like him.

It was true what you’d wanted to do was grow and change, become a better version of yourself, tempered and strengthened by battle. That was a sentiment Zenos didn’t seem to fully grasp, and you felt all the emptier for it, but still. Still.

The person you had _grown into,_ the person you _were now…_

There really wasn’t much of an argument for you, was there? You didn’t have anything left at all, you’d never had anything, so of course after all your great enemies were conquered all that was left were the dying embers, glowing only in the heat of battle. You weren’t an adventurer anymore, you weren’t fighting because you _wanted_ to.

Of course you’d come with Zenos. The honest truth was, you hadn’t wanted to stay. It didn’t interest you. And taking Zenos’s hand _had._

Zenos lived for battle. You’d lived as an adventurer, someone who did battle for a living.

Zenos loved the thrill of the fight; the thrill of finally finding someone to challenge him. You loved it too; fighting for your life, desperately using everything to your advantage, being stretched to your absolute limits and being forced to surpass them.

Zenos was a Resonant. He became a Resonant searching for a way to become more powerful. You had the Echo. You’d spent what felt like lifetimes getting stronger, fighting harder, earning Hydaelyn’s blessing twice over.

That was… that was all. Your purpose and his. That was who you were, that was _all_ you were, the both of you. There was really nothing more to your lives, to your existence and his. So empty, so meaningless, and yet it was unlike anything else, a life no one besides you and him could live. To be so powerful, to be above everyone and everything, to be able to completely and utterly defeat any and all opposition.

He loved it. You loved it. You both relished in it, chased after that feeling of glorious power, of triumph in the face of the ultimate foe. And despaired when you found none, when the two of you realized you were all alone at the top of the world. It left you both lost and searching.

His bored, derisive manner before you had proved yourself his equal. The empty life you’d led after you’d been called to fight battles you didn’t care about.

Zenos was… he was

Just

Like

You

 

 

In the room, alone with his thoughts, Zenos sat for a moment, before frowning.

You wanted him dead… except you did not, because you believed you and he were not the same? Absurd. Where had your earlier talkative ways gone, when you were dismissing everything he had said to you that day?

What happened beyond your duel – it was a waste to even think about. When he had finally mastered all his powers, once you and him were finally at the height of your strengths; when he was at last able to put his one and only life on the line in that grand climactic battle… _that_ was what merited his thought. What did it matter what happened after? Your battle would take everything from him, he would give it all just to see what you could do - what  _he_ could do. To finally fight, to finally be able to lose.

_Your life has been nothing but boredom, and you intended to die just once you’ve found your excitement._

His lips curled into an ugly snarl. If that voice meant to harry him, it should at least show itself, make its presence known. Zenos cared not for what judgements others may pass, but that this being thought itself obliged to decide his life was nothing, and force him to listen to its droning – that was nigh intolerable.

If that voice thought itself a worthy judge, it must also have been willing to face him. If it really _did_ understand Zenos, it would know that he would accept no less. Whatever happened between you and him was none of this being’s business; it would not intrude upon your battle, Zenos would not permit it.

The greatest battle of all deserved nothing less than the greatest possible stakes. He could think of absolutely nothing more worthy than this one life he had in this world. Everything he may ever do or want, every battle he had yet to fight and hunt he had yet to savor, all possible futures he could ever live, all wagered in that one battle which you may very well _win._

If he won – Zenos blinked. He… had never imagined himself winning. Nor had he bothered to imagine what may happen if you won, and he lost. You had talked about how winning mattered to you, how it had driven you to become the person you are. If he had cared about winning, would that give him power as it had you? The strength to see it through to the very end – to master even that endless Abyss?

You claimed to have done it because you desired victory so desperately, because you _had_ to win, or somesuch. The only thing –

Zenos straightened a moment, blue eyes clearing in a shining moment of realization.

The only thing _he_ desired so desperately, was the battle itself. To struggle to reach his absolute limits, to transcend them –

_“…the power to surpass every imaginable limit…”_

Was it worth thinking on, anyways? When you had regained yourself, your inner strength, you would battle him. The idea of it thrilled him, but somehow – not quite like before. The memory of your hollow, haunted eyes had done little to stoke his fighting spirit, and yet he had felt naught but frustration, festering into anger, from your earlier tirade.

Despite the thought appealing to him less and less, the knowledge that you were not yet the opponent he wished to face, Zenos wanted to fight you now almost more than he had in Ala Mhigo. But that, he knew, would lead only to a bland, unsatisfying ending. No matter who won, if he knew you had not been at the peak of your power – if _he_ had not grasped all sources of power that he could, himself – then it would all have been for naught.

With your stake in it so uncertain, with your determination so tainted, Zenos knew he could not fight you. He couldn’t stake his life on something less than the very best; there would be no joy in it. It would be a useless finale, bereft of passion.

_You have no place calling endings ‘useless’._

Hmph. Not nearly so useless as this commentary echoing in his head.

At least to this he had a rebuttal – there was no ending here, not yet. He could wait for his moment, test you, nudge – and shove, mayhap – you in the right direction.

Zenos knew full well he would never find another like you. He knew already that you were the likes of legends, such that gods could never hope to match. Even a being like Shinryu would be powerless against you – your power was such that all creation bent to it. He could not easily survive your strength, alike to the savage beasts that held nothing back, gave no quarter, and could challenge even him in their feral might.

And to think the savages in your home had wielded that power. So easily, so readily – they must miss their weapon dearly.

He received a report earlier in the day concerning the movements of your precious Eorzean and Doman allies. Their spies had discovered Ala Mhigo had joined the Alliance and begun to build defenses along the borders, along with Doma.

It was, beyond any shadow of a doubt, the most predictable and boring state of affairs which he could imagine. Without even reading the report Zenos had known the Domans would seek to guard The Burn, which was the only viable route for an invasion given the range of their airships and the places available to refuel them. The Ala Mhigans were even worse, simply fortifying and dedicating manpower to the border defenses.

As though Garlemald did not have a numbers advantage that would make such fortifications useless. As though The Burn was anything but an empty, barren wasteland. He could make quick worth of both provinces, with only the remains of the Twelfth he had withdrawn from both nations.

Surrendering the provinces, then taking them right back. An absolutely pointless endeavor. Retaining them would have meant less to deal with from his father, but their loss was necessary for _you_ to grow into what you were now.

A warrior who had won two wars on two fronts, faced him twice and survived, grown ever stronger in ways he had not imagined possible. All the blood you’d shed up to this point, all the men you had killed and battles you had fought – it had all been the price to pay for your growth, a sacrifice so that you might become the Warrior of Light who could face him.

Indeed… It was an interesting way you thought. Immediately he had seen how vast the gulf between you and him had truly been.

He spun his weapon in its sheath once again.

You, who relied upon change – if you could not defeat him, you would become someone who could.

He had only ever needed to hone his strength which had barely ever been tested. When the time came to gather more, he had been forced to find new powers, having already refined every power he possessed.

It would seem you had done quite the opposite. You had been gifted a power to transcend the gods, a mind to master countless disciplines, the ability to wield magic as well as weaponry. He knew well from your first meeting – even still his lips twitched at the memory – that you had possessed perhaps a number of skills and abilities, but none of them had been powerful enough to harm him.

When you met again you had grown stronger, you had _changed,_ and though you had seemed to learn new powers as well, the truth was that your every movement was faster, more skillful, your attacks more potent. _You_ were more potent, superior to that Warrior who had fought him in the Reach in every way.

His eyes scanned across the grey room, the table before him filling more space than anything else. The floor stretched until it met the wall, riveted together with typical precision. All made of solid metal, dulled and unremarkable.

You were a blade forged by battle, he by relentless practice and natural art.

Again his mind went to them. The pitiful Ala Mhigan girl in red, the white-horned Doman shinobi. They had commanded you to do their bidding, no doubt, dragged you into their wars because they were too weak to do anything themselves.

You fed upon your enemies and trained harder and grew stronger and more cunning. If he was loath to recall the version of yourself he had first met, Zenos could not bring himself to imagine who you were long ago, before you came to be known as Warrior of Light.

And from that undoubtedly pitiful, meager adventurer… you had become his rival. The only warrior he had ever met who could dance in battle as his equal.

All that struggling you had gone through to become _better,_ and those worthless creatures had only used you. Not once had they tried to emulate you, to grow as you had.

And so when Zenos came to Eorzea he found not a million worthy warriors, but a single fighter of merit, and barely even that. They had only cast all their burdens upon you and expected you to carry them all to their victory, without once attempting to improve as you had.

How could you willingly fight for those people? That you felt responsible for their suffering, when _they_ were the ones who were unable to prevent it; it was egocentrism at its finest. Zenos would not deign to deny that he himself cared for little else in this world besides the few things that moved him personally. But then, that was the point: he did not deny it.

You seemed determined to make everything that happened to everyone to be your own doing, something you could have prevented, another burden for you and you alone to bear. And for it you called yourself a hero, as though it was not all done in the name of satisfying your own desires. The desire for a challenge, to become more powerful, to – to _change,_ or whatever it was you wanted. You may as well have outright admitted you were doing it all for yourself, and still! Still, you kept at this useless charade.

It was a personal torment you put yourself through, for reasons he could not – for reasons he _did not_ understand. Did it provide you with your elusive inner strength that you possessed that he supposedly did not – the ability to master the Abyss?

Unlikely. Then it would not be killing you, as it were now. And then, you would not have decided that you needed to leave your precious responsibilities behind. What had fixated you so on the people around you, that moved you to fight for them?

All at once, strangely enough, Zenos recalled an image he actually wished to remember. That day he had seen in your memories. That light-haired elezen, pierced in the chest by a spear of light…

The pain you had felt, the pain he had felt you feel through his Resonance. He glanced down at his shoulder – unharmed, unmarred. He had never suffered such a wound, except fighting you in the Abyss. Raising a hand to his collar, he brushed against the skin there, smiling at the tenderness. Your earlier assault had left its mark on him, fleeting though it may be.

Zenos could almost still feel your hands at his neck even now. Ready to squeeze, to tear and rip through flesh.

For once, the thought of you engaging in such savagery… did not quite seem to fit. You had been tired, but driven. Powerful, but measured. There had been no savagery in you back there, had there? You had been brimming with intent, with desires unspoken and those impossible responsibilities weighing heavy in the back of your mind.

A sigh escaped him. Would he have still offered his hand, knowing what an obtuse, difficult task this would be?

Well. A smile lifted his lips. In the entirety of his life, Zenos had never found anything to be easy and also interesting.

He had at least discovered his area of contention. And the new source of power he intended to pursue – it already held greater appeal to him than Shinryu, despite the eagerness with which he had embraced the idea of overpowering the Primal. The idea did still stir excitement from within him, but not nearly so much as your own power.

The power to surpass any and all limits. That black and endless void that seemingly overcame the Resonance itself. His smile grew.

Indeed, the day’s efforts had made for a fine discovery, after all. A new hunt was on, with a far more intriguing target.

Zenos made to leave the room.

It was time to find Aulus – and perhaps your little friend, as well –

And ask him just what more he could find about your precious  _soul crystals._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think, I was giving up on this? Not for a good long while, my friends, not for a while. There's a lot of plots and subplots I've started that are only just beginning to thicken, and I'm not about to stop writing this just before it's getting good! Hopefully ya'll haven't been lost or disappointed in such a long gap between updates. It really wasn't intentional, and I promise you no one is happier than me to finally have this out!
> 
> That being said, it wasn't without some suffering on my part. I had a really hard time during Winter Break with some motivation stuff, a friend who came over to stay at my house, and various other holiday things I won't get into, but they did take up a lot of my time and attention. A lot of it make it harder to write this fic, which I'd spent a lot of time on, and I have a lot of ideas and plans laid out that I knew I needed to go along with and felt frustrated with because I wasn't sure I could live up to my own expectations. 
> 
> Do you guys remember the meme where the kid is like “Do you ever have a dream that – that you – um – you had - you d- you w- you could - …”
> 
> Writing this chapter felt a lot like that meme. I’m dying inside. I have a number of ideas, but I feel like I’m not expressing them well and I’m not sure if Zenos is in character, or if I’m using the correct language or speech patterns. I rewatched a lot of his cutscenes and I still don’t feel like it helps. I’m having a really hard time telling what Zenos is supposed to be thinking during this scene, and why.
> 
> After Winter Break ended and I published some of my Solus stuff, it got better, a lot better. I started writing things and thinking "Yeah, I could absolutely see canon Zenos saying that. No doubt in my mind, I can _hear_ his voice saying it in my head, it sounds that much like him." I didn't feel like that for the writing of this whole chapter, but for the last stretch of it, and it did a lot to make me feel better about writing Zenos, and this fic. I can say with confidence that I feel like I personally a renewed interest in writing this story and seeing my precious plotting reach fruition! There's a lot in store and I intend to get the ball rolling!


	17. The Swell

They walked through a passage, and several halls, eventually coming to a large hanger. It had to be large, of course – the creature could not be stored anywhere else. The entire fleet of airships had been mobilized for the retreat, even a number that had been specially commissioned to account for the transport of the eikon.

Aulus inclined his head respectfully to Zenos, but approached the table Asahi was on to examine the boy further, eyes daring between computer displays and the monitoring of the boy’s vitals.

Zenos eyed Asahi, lying flat and still on the table, with the first sliver of interest he had in the entirety of his life. “Did he survive the experiment?”

Aulus opened his mouth then closed it. He tilted his head, lips quirking, “I believe the Resonance will allow you to discover the answer personally, Lord Zenos.”

He frowned, faintly. There could be no mistaking it – the boy was… not there. The body on the table was not a corpse, not quite – as with all the failed subjects, the Doman boy had fallen unconscious and become unresponsive. Dead in every way that mattered, though his heart should still beat in his chest.

“And what is he doing here, Praefectus?” Zenos did not bother to keep the impatience from his voice.

Without any apparent distress, Aulus responded, “I briefly suspected he might awaken, and in order to proceed with the experiments we had been conducting earlier I relocated him here. However, as you have perceived, the subject’s soul had disappeared, and is all but physiologically dead.”

“As the others had.” The scientist nodded. How unsurprising; the boy was really as weak as he had seemed.

The people of Doma, whom you had fought for and defended to him on several occasions, came to mind. Such burning passion they had possessed for their rebellion, such ferocity. And yet they may as well have been children throwing sticks for all they had hurt him. They would have done anything, _anything,_ to win their precious freedom. In that respect, Zenos supposed the boy was far too like his countrymen. So eager and desperate to please, and yet still so pathetically unable to do so.

For the likes of the boy, who had no strength, there were no second chances. However you had demanded Zenos to spare him, even you would not have been able to spare the boy from his own weakness. You thought him unable to comprehend your compassion – he knew it well enough. Enough to know how misplaced it was.

After all, he had spared _you,_ hadn’t he? That day at the Reach. Seen your prowess as a Warrior, deemed your performance a fair enough trade for your life. But unlike the people _you_ wished to show mercy to, _you_ changed, proved yourself worthy of that mercy. Then acted as though he could not properly measure the value of a life. And yet you still had not understood. You still fought for them.

Zenos allowed his eyes to linger on the Tribunus’s body, still as though it was sleeping, for not even a heartbeat longer. Pathetic.

“Dispose the body before we reach the mainland. I would not have my father hear of his Ambassador’s demise before I see fit to tell him of it.”

“As you will. However, our estimated arrival date may be delayed considerably; the spell which houses the eikon was not made to be transported. All possible modifications and enhancements have been made already, and the eikon is stable for now.”

Zenos’s eyes narrowed. “It has not been stable? For what reason do you say this only now?”

Aulus, to his credit, sounded legitimately surprised. “My lord, you could sense the eikon’s aether, could you not?”

“Explain.” Zenos said.

Without missing a beat, Aulus made to answer.

“The creature has been contained for too long and its aether had built up. The experiment with the Doman was to test the affects of the eikon’s influence on a failed Resonance subject. It served also to release the pent up energy without destroying the surroundings.”

Zenos considered him for a moment. “Your results?”

It didn’t really _sound_ like a question, but that had never dissuaded the scientist.

“The Doman is unresponsive as he was before. The control subject was not tempered – he has been executed, of course – but my readings suggest that there was a very strong surge of aether in the building, which was successfully diverted to the outside of the airship.”

How… dull. Completely uninteresting. While it was fortunate that the beast had not grown weak in its captivity, that wasn’t an idea he had seriously entertained anyways.

“My Lord,” Aulus said, after a pause. “You had no knowledge of the new subject until this moment. What purpose does your presence here entail?”

Considering what he knew about other races and their soul crystal, it would be useful at least to ask. “Did the Doman have a soul crystal?”

Returning to his monitors, Aulus responded, “No, he did not. To my knowledge they are possessed only by exceptional masters of whichever savage discipline that crystal imparts experience of.”

And you had more than one. Zenos could feel anticipation, old and strung out to wait for you, tensing within him. How long he had waited. How long he had yet to wait.

“I suppose none of our conscripts are in possession of one?” There were no masters among them, of that he was fairly certain. The non-Garleans had been the first ones he’d thrown at the advancing Alliance, knowing that those were the least reliable regiments. If he had been left in Ala Mhigo fighting the whole of the Eorzean Alliance with naught but _conscripted_ Eorzeans at his command – what good was a war fought with such pointless handicaps?

Fear was the tool he used to control his Legion. Cornered between their fear of him and the invading army of familiar races, the conscripted soldiers were all too likely to lash out.

“No, my Lord. There are few enough of them remaining, and those few are incompetent besides. Obviously, the optimal solution would be to acquire one from one such master, but that is impossible in our current situation.”

“Then your research henceforth will be on the means to create one.” Zenos did not tell Aulus to prioritize this; he already knew.

He turned to leave, but a voice stopped him.

“My lord, as with the Resonance, my research cannot proceed without a sample to study and replicate.”

Zenos eyed his subordinate coolly. “As we have discussed, we do not possess one.”

“Then I lack the requisite materials to proceed. When we reach Garlemald, we may scour the other Legions for foreign troops who have soul crystals, or send our remaining operatives to procure one with haste.” Aulus stated. He had not looked away from his work.

A sharp metal sound rang through the room. It was meant to be heard, of course. Aulus knew that.

He turned to see Zenos before him, blade drawn. The edge pointed in his direction, with no particular pretense as to the meaning of the gesture. He inclined his head respectfully.

“Do you have any _original_ ideas, Praefectus? Ones that did not occur to me within seconds of knowing what was necessary? If you intend to waste my time I will arrange for another to take your place.”

Aulus didn’t blink, didn’t flinch at the Prince who had uplifted him to his position and supported his research unfailingly until now. Zenos did not suffer even minor annoyances from his subordinates; this, he knew well.

“No, my Lord.” He would not waste his Lord’s time with an apology, because that would have quite defeated the purpose of the apology.

“Good. I trust you will leave such matters to your betters.”

“I shall make preparations forthwith, and enact what solutions are within my ability at the moment.” Aulus said, bringing an arm to his chest in a salute as his superior left the room.

“Unnecessary.” Zenos left without looking back. “You shall have your sample.”

The last thing he heard before leaving the room was the sound of Aulus turning, presumably to make arrangements for studying the crystal he would be brought.

 

Lips curving ever so slightly upwards, Zenos stalked through the hall as the expected, familiar sensation of the Resonance in the corner of his mind. The training, the practice – ‘twas put to good use indeed. He had gone through no small effort to establish the Resonatorium, and at last it had come to fruition, led him to grounds so wholly _new,_ so unexplored and ripe for the taking.

That so-called friend of your, that – _Estinien._ The one he had sensed earlier.

Without a doubt, Estinien possessed a soul crystal. 

You had been given every opportunity to inform him of the obvious non-Garlean’s presence on the ship, and you knew full well what would be done to him if he was discovered. Now the issue was how to deal with him without your interference. However pleasant it may be to fight you, if you barred his way the intruder and his soul crystal would surely escape his grasp.

Soul crystal… he did wonder just what powers your little _friend_ had. Why the man had seemed so terribly convinced he would be anything more than another insect for the great beast to swat away without effort.

He’d sensed power in the man; he was strong, perhaps. Mayhap even a shadow of the Warrior you were now, alike to the one who had faced him in that pitiful little Resistance encampment, so long ago. It felt like it had been _years,_ somehow.  

But not when compared to you. Nothing compared to you. Estinien was no eikon slayer, no warrior who would turn the fate of nations on his own. He sought only to use your power to his own ends, just as your other _friends_ had. The difference was merely that this delusional fool believed his own contribution would matter.

Zenos nearly scoffed aloud. ‘Twere that the case, why did this Estinien not come and face the eikon himself? With the creature sealed and sleeping would it not be the perfect time to strike? And on a ship with his enemies – when the fleet was inevitably destroyed in the process, that would be all the better.

No. Your friend did not want to kill the eikon – he wanted _you_ to kill the eikon for him, because he knew he could not do it. Had he the strength, he would have fought the beast already, instead of entreating you, _demanding_ you go along with his schemes.

Although – had he not asked you to _return_ to Eorzea? If you had gone along with the man’s wishes he would be left to fight the beast alone, and surely fail and die. Most like he would also take out the ship in the process.

Hm. So that was his game. How very noble of him. Sacrificing his life to achieve so very little. The beast would rampage through Garlemald and perhaps this Estinien even expected him to die at sea, leaving the Empire to deal with the raging eikon and the Emperor without his heir.

The very corner of his lips pulled upwards, wry amusement rising through his chest. He could not say with certainty just what this man thought he was doing… but –

He closed his eyes and reached for the power, familiar by now, a sensation unlike any other, filling him with awareness, opening paths previously unavailable. A trickle of excitement only just managed to make its way through him.

At last the moment had arrived to put this new skill to the proof. Mayhap your friend would manage to be half the man he seemed to think he was. If so, he should at least be able to offer a modicum of resistance. He doubted it would be enough to make it of any true note, but he bore one of those Eorzean soul crystals, so he may at least be  _interesting_ game.

And if you saw fit to intervene… Well.

He opened his eyes, face having fallen back into bored indifference. The perfect opportunity had presented itself, as well as a satisfactory resolution. You had no inkling at all of his awareness; no idea whatsoever that he knew about that man coming aboard this ship. Moreover, his new senses could finally be put to the test, as well as this Eorzean’s own strength, the power of the crystal he bore, as you did.  

Allowing you to know that he knew about your little friend would only hinder his purposes, and it served yours for him to deal with the man. Had you not yourself asked him to leave before he was discovered? Had the fool heeded your commands he would have been spared this fate. Most fortunate indeed.

As it stood… the hunt had begun.

 

 

 

That night you sought out Estinien, of your own volition. If there was anything you knew, it was how to find a brooding dragoon on a giant Imperial aircraft headed towards Garlemald carrying a primal of Calamitous proportions.

 _How specific. Doubtless this skill will be of use to us later._ You would have called Fray sarcastic, if it hadn’t been true at least in part.

Predictably, you found him on the top of the airship. It was expected, but no less annoying – you weren’t sure if he had been up here the _whole_ time, but probably a lot of it, considering you’d only gotten there yourself with jumps typical to dragoons.

Figures he would come up here. It was damn well cold enough. _If you dislike it so much, let’s **leave.**_

Wind hurtled past you; the airship was still moving. You hadn’t seemed to have reached Garlemald, but you couldn’t be sure. Shudders run down freely down your back, through your arms and legs, a trembling you were only able to steel with a warrior’s discipline. At least Zenos wasn’t here for you to worry about seeing this weakness.

With his control of the Resonance there was no telling at all what he could know. It was best to keep your soul crystals hidden away, suppress your aether and call upon the arts of the Shinobi. Finally Yugiri would have a chance to show him up; even if Zenos had seen through her smoke screen back then, there was no way he would be able to detect you now.

It seemed, however, that was all you had to be glad of.

Mouth set in a hard line, Estinien said, “I have heard naught from Lucia. Linkpearl or otherwise. Nor have I seen her.”

 _Oh, yes. And of course **we** can tell him, since we are responsible for the safety of everyone whose first name we have learned. _ Fray’s sarcasm aside, this was bad news. _True; it’s worse than that. You did not know the Doman boy’s name._

You frowned at him, “Neither have I.”

“Cannot you search for her? Ask for her whereabouts, investigate her disappearance-”

“The airship is on lockdown.” You had to stop yourself from raising your voice, even as Fray fumed in response to Estinien’s glare, “Remember when I asked you if you attacked a man – Aulus? There was an assassination attempt on him, and Zenos is having the place patrolled until the perpetrator is found. He thinks it's an insurrection.”

All you hear is a low growl. “That makes matters thrice as difficult; I must not be caught before the monster is slain. You are far better suited to search without rousing suspicion.”

_Of course. Yes, place the burden of finding your lost compatriot on **us**. How did you know we wanted to be saddled with **another** responsibility? I suppose it would not occur to you that other people have lives outside of ‘Kill the dragon’, would it, Estinien? No, we’re all a part of your goals, we’re all a part of your grand scheme, and you’ll do whatever you think you need to, using your own judgement and no one else’s._

You waited for Fray’s ranting to abate before speaking. It wouldn’t do any good to dwell on it, or have it in your head while you were talking.

“Do the others know? What was her original mission here?”

Estinien gave you a _look._ “Now you wish to hear of them? Have you not sworn off their affairs, their concerns?”

He couldn’t help it. What were you asking him about now? Why were you making him think about them? Just hearing Aymeric’s voice was hard enough. Knowing the man was beside himself with worry, fretting like a maid over his sweetheart – over you, over him and Lucia, and the future of nations.

And they had wanted him to report on your status, asking how you were doing. Estinien supposed he’d used up all his patience dealing with the boy, not snapping at him, telling him to _go harass your Warrior of Light, bratty child, you know naught of the struggles the rest of us have gone through –_

“I won’t return, but I _do_ mean to help them.” You said, lips pressed together in a serious line. Not the least from the cold.

Instantly regret hit him. Over and over, like a weight he could not drop.

He thinks these things, he feels these things, and you are _still_ the Warrior of Light. Still trying to help, even when you didn’t want to, when your drive had deserted you. Estinien couldn’t fathom such a feeling – whatever else he’d suffered, he had never wanted for motivation – but to have heard you speak of the toll the role had taken on you, and to know that you _still_ meant to help…

“How so?” He said.

Words curdled inside him, emotions ran rampart, old anger pooled in his gut. Desperate to spill out. He shut his mouth and said naught more. Waited to hear what you had to say, even as the urge welled within. _Traitor. Traitor! Kith and kin, thou hast deserted for thine own purposes! Traitor!_

Please, tell him something. Tell him anything, tell him anything at all to make this go away, say anything that will allow him to believe in you, that you still care about the people you left behind. He may not have been a devout man – inasmuch as one could be so in Ishgard – but by the Fury, he wanted to believe in _you._

“Zenos and I have a… bet, going on. Once I defeat him in open combat, I can get him to do any favor I like. I’m going to use it to get him to support the less aggressive factions in Garlemald.”

“ _You_ ,” Estinien was overcome at once with rage, burning through his vision until he seized it, thinking back desperately to the foolish things he’d said before, “You’ve made a _bet_ of the people’s future?!”

He shouldn’t – he should think about this. Shouldn’t be angry, shouldn’t let this feeling control him. He was not this person anymore. He did not want to be this person anymore. Nidhogg could not control him.

And all of that amounted to nothing; Estinien found his legs carrying him forwards to you, a few quick strides, startling himself in their intensity. His face twisted so hard into a sneer it nearly hurt. “And if you lose? Have you accepted the risk for yourself – or for Eorzea? What shall the Viceroy do if you _lose?!”_

You had to pause to consider it, which was a mistake. It only fanned the flames. _Let him stew in it. We don’t owe him any answers._

Of course, you gave him answers. “I don’t know, but it won’t be what you fear – we’re headed for Garlemald either way. If I were to lose I would owe him a favor – he could ask me to do something for him, certainly, but it wouldn’t change the situation.”

“And you would have me believe your claim that you _can_ change things if you defeat him?” Estinien’s gaze pierced through you; he’d been away from Ishgard, but he hadn’t lost his homeland’s ice.

_Ah, yes. What were we thinking? We, who have no experience at all in ending wars, in defeating Garleans, thinking we can change things; how naïve. You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Estinien? You know wars can’t be ended with diplomacy, you can’t reason with your enemies. That’s how you ended your thousand year war, right? It’s a shame we weren’t there to help, and you did that all on your own._

Sometimes you wondered if there was a limit, any limit at all, to Fray’s sarcasm. There was – when words turned into actions, when Fray was well and truly angry with you – but at moments like this, it was truly overwhelming.

_Clearly, you know much more than us about how to change things, seeing as you’re just the very same hostile bastard to us now as you were when we first met. One would think you had not spent your entire life fighting in a neverending war and willfully burying yourself in your own grief and misery. You’d rather sacrifice yourself senselessly than **actually** think for a moment about what’s needed for the people you care about. And now you want us to do the same. _

You hadn’t heard a tirade like that in a while. Fighting the urge to sigh – to frown – you crossed your arms. “I may not be able to change everything, but I might at least influence some people, build the groundwork for a Garlemald the Alliance can treat with.”

It only served to aggravate Estinien further. His anger was building as it was, sparked over and over by every single thing you said.

All you could do was give him _excuses,_ reasons you didn’t _feel_ like upholding your responsibilities. Making bets, putting so much faith in your own personal power – you’d seen what it had done to _him!_ You had people relying on you, the people of Ishgard who had followed you faithfully into an Alliance, into _another war_ and you had abandoned them!

Because of what? You thought you could fix things, give some pittance of assistance while you left Eorzea behind to deal with the disasters you had been a party to? You knew full well what would come when the next primal was summoned. That blood would be on your hands, and Garlemald – ha. He knew the face of a nation at war; he had lived as the face of a nation at war.

And going by the Viceroy’s behaviors – the Crown Prince was a man who _loved_ war. As though you could do anything about that.

“Ah, _influence,_ ” Estinien scoffed, raising his voice loud above the winds, “How terribly helpful of you. How the Alliance will rejoice to hear their Warrior of Light has gone off to play diplomat-”

“What’s your problem?!” You snapped, shoving Estinien backwards, out of your space, in a sudden movement he was obviously not prepared for. “Do you want me _not_ to do anything? You want me _not_ to fight Zenos, not to try and stop war from breaking out again?!”

 _Envy,_ Fray supplied, and you paused to listen while Estinien collected himself. _When the time came to make peace, Estinien failed. He could never have been a diplomat, he’s never solved anything in his life without fighting. He knows it. And now he wants you to think that too, because if **you** can’t do it, then it’s not so shameful that he can’t do it, either._

The spite – the bile – how absolutely hateful Estinien would have to be – the idea built in your chest, hot and writing and… right. It was right, wasn’t it? You couldn’t see Estinien’s face, but his words spoke for him.

He didn’t want you to succeed like this, outside of battle. Estinien came here to fight, to hunt down the last dregs of the maddened dragon that had possessed him. He didn’t want to hear about diplomacy, about your plans, about _anything_ that wasn’t what he wanted to do.

“I want you to return! I want you to return to your friends, your allies, the bloody boy who won’t stop fussing over your absence! _Return_ to them, already!”

 _Oh, is that what you want? Is it?!_ Fray’s words were overpowering, your thoughts couldn’t help but congregate, coalesce on your darkside’s attitude, and suddenly you were of one mind – your mouth moved without you even thinking of it.

“You want me to return, do you? It’s all about what you want, isn’t it? All about what you think is right. You think Aymeric didn’t want _you_ to return? You think _I_ didn’t want-” No – **No.** Enough of this ruminating.

Somehow you managed to stop yourself there – what face Estinien was making under the mask, you didn’t know, and you didn’t want to.

“It doesn’t matter.” You said, voice short and cold even to your own ears.

Estinien was silent. Frozen in place, you would guess, and not from the wind. The dragoon was holding his pose tensely as though preparing for you to come at him again. Stupid of him.

 _Does he think if we had any desire at all to hurt him, he can do anything about it? I wish we could make him understand. Why won’t he understand?_ A hard truth solidified from the corners of your mind, coming to light away from the dark. Estinien didn’t understand because he didn’t want to. All he was thinking about was himself, his own problems… and that was fine. It was what you were doing.

But unlike him, you were at least aware of it. You didn’t accuse anyone else, ask anything of anyone else, made no demands or assumptions of those who surrounded you. Finally, you had found it in yourself to seize your freedom – or Zenos had found it in you – and yet people _still_ followed you around, asked you for help.

_Selfish, self-centered, stubborn bastard. Nothing we say to him is working; he must work it out in his own mind, if ever the stubborn fool even tries to understand us._

Fray’s dismissive words rang through you, set deep in your bones. There were some things even all your power could not change; and this was one of them. Even if you tried to explain, Estinien wouldn’t see things from your perspective, see what being a hero had done to you. He didn’t want to.

It was your gaze that pinned him in place, more than anything else. Why were you looking at him like that? You hadn’t looked at your enemies like that, you hadn’t looked at your friends like that. You hadn’t _looked_ like that. The Warrior of Light with a face that could have been carved from stone; Estinien had never seen your resolve so… bitter.

“I told you why I did what I did, and none of those things have changed.” Estinien heard you say in the Warrior of Light’s voice. “And I told you what I’m trying to do now, and why I’m trying to do it. You can work with me, or on your own.”

You wouldn’t just leave him by himself to find his way out of this mess, but neither would you agree to whatever _he_ decided was best. _Fool._

What? You’d stood to your convictions, refused to give in. What did Fray want you to do? _I want you to stop asking what other people want, but unfortunately, you’ve stopped listening. Then again, you never listened to **me** , anyways. _

“Then – find Lucia.” He barked at you, but uncertainty coloring his voice.

“I’ve already searched for her, Estinien. I can look some more, but…” You paused in frustration, feeling the tension grow between you and him, almost _hearing_ Estinien’s objections bubble up from within, “Don’t you have any other way to contact her? How had the two of you been meeting before this happened?”

“No! I have no other means – and since we boarded the ship I have not seen her.” He snapped, hesitating at the withering look you sent him.

If someone heard him, there wasn’t that much you could do – you could keep the Garleans off him while he ran, but where could he run? Would Estinien be able to teleport away? He may have been able to get to Shinryu because of Nidhogg’s eyes and aether, but that wouldn’t help him get back, not when even Ala Mhigo was many malms away.

You’d been traveling for days – there was no other way for him to get back besides aetheryte, aside from perhaps stealing some kind of Garlean vessel stored on the airship. It was definitely possible that they had such things here, but neither you nor Estinien would know how to get to or operate such a thing.

To say nothing of the issues that would arise from you defending him, being a guest aboard this ship. At the invitation of the Crown Prince, no less. You didn’t know what sort of situation that would put you into, and you didn’t want to. Especially with how Zenos had brought this very subject up to you.

 _Have you not stopped to consider that he does so for a reason? That he has a **point**? _ What, had _Fray_ spent too much time listening to what _Zenos_ wanted? And your darkside had dared to call you out on being upset at having disappointed Zenos – _No. I have shared his opinion of the others for some time now, and you know it._

Then why had Fray defended you? _Fool. You already know that answer._

You did, but – but there were matters at present that needed consideration.

“So we have no way to contact her, you haven’t seen her, I haven’t seen her. The next step would be for me to ask after her and damn the consequences, but I’m having problems of my own finding my… escort.” You nearly winced at your own words. Still, you were worried – where had Asahi gone? There was no doubt in your mind the boy would not just abandon his post, so what was he doing?

“Escort?” Estinien spat out the word at you like he had once said ‘dragon’. “What sor-”

He was interrupted by a clap of thunder, and winds picking up about you, drowning out his voice.

At once you saw his face illuminated – bare shock plain in the lightning.

A storm? This did not bode well. You frowned as you watched Estinien’s eyes head whip around, searching futilely for creatures in the air – dragons. There were none, of course. This was only the weather.

Even as you thought that, another crash of lightning – raindrops wet your cheeks. This did not bode well.

“Estinien, do you have somewhere to go? I…” Your voice trailed off when you found the space you were talking to empty.

He did have somewhere to go then. Rain started falling hard, and harder, until you were soaked already in just a couple moments as you made to climb off the roof of the airship.

If Estinien had teleported to the primal, he would be near the center – in the largest part of the ship. The safest, no doubt. There was no way Zenos would risk destroying the ship in transit and letting Shinryu escape him.

_It would be entertaining to watch him swim, though, wouldn’t it?_

Even Fray was willing to make a quip. You almost cracked a smile, until the lightning flashed again, plain white light blanketing the dull grey Garlean steel.

You could see a few people running across the ship, from here to there, as you descended down a ladder – eventually it was just too slow, too much of a pain, and you jumped straight off. The fall never bothered you anyways.

 _What?_ It hurt, sure, but you were mostly fine after. Fray hissed your name, and you shook yourself once, almost as though you were shaking the water off instead of Fray’s distain for your lack of self-preservation.

The floors, metal though they were, still weren’t to slippery with the water all over them. The Garleans had clearly put some thought into the design, into the grid like patterns on the flooring. It extended well into the interior parts of the ship, where you quickly retreated into, out of the cold.

The airship swayed a bit to the side as you strode down through the halls – with your room in the interior, the rain couldn’t quite reach in here, although the winds were picking up, and the Garleans did strange things with air in this ship. In the pipes, if you remembered right. You could feel just a bit of a draft behind you, the air moving in a way it normally wouldn’t, almost faintly reminding you of Garuda’s winds. Though a good deal less out to kill you.

It was fortunate indeed Estinien hadn’t needed to stay up there. Even though the primal was probably being guarded – he hadn’t been caught yet, hadn’t he? …Hadn’t he? _Enough of that. Get inside already._

You raised your eyes, ready to open the door, tug off your soaking clothes, and give Fray a snarky retort.

The door was open.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I am alive. Yes I am still writing this story. You guys have no idea, no idea at all how much I agonized over what the last word of this chapter should be. Really, it was a full 2 seconds of deliberation before I decided to be an asshole and leave you guys on a cliffhanger. I have no regrets, no apologies.
> 
> I'd say this is probably my worst chapter so far, but I honestly don't have the strength to put more effort into it, I want to get to the later parts of this story arc that I've been planning for ages. The next chapter is tentatively planned for release on the 30th. I'm writing down a date so I don't put off working on this fic until I realize that I haven't updated in ages, at which point I think to myself "Hey, what's another day?" 
> 
> Not a lot of WoL/Zenos interaction, which is sad, but lots of plot development, and something for the Estinien fans. He's another reason I have trouble to update, the guy is such a pain to write. I hope he comes across as in character. 
> 
> Anyways I'm gonna go work on the next chapter of another fic, and also cry about what the hell I'm going to do with the tags of this story, now that 4.56 has dropped all these bombs. Hope you guys enjoyed!


	18. The Storm I

In silence Aulus watched Zenos disappear through the automatic doors. He turned back to his work only once the footsteps were no longer audible from the hall, pushing up his glasses as he looked over his screens.

From across the room, he heard a  _swish,_ cloth rustling against –

No one should be here. Absolutely no one.

Aulus sighed. Could Lord Zenos not have lingered for an hour or so – or returned for a brief clarification? The Prince was exceptionally unlikely to ever engage in such sub-optimal behavior, but it would have been extremely convenient. As it stood, his words implied he was off to requisition a soul crystal from some unknowable source.

The most probable case was that the intruder was his would-be assassin. How the various security measures and magitek defenses had failed to detect or repel the intruder was a mystery, but the issue at hand would be apprehending and interrogating whoever had entered this place.

Calling in soldiers would require those reinforcements to be killed afterwards, given the nature of this particular project and the contained primal. He would see to this personally.

With a turn and a gesture to his drones, Aulus greeted the intruder with a smile.

Ah, an elezen. Clad in some strange savage armor.

“Ah, an Eorzean.” Aulus said, voice loud in the silent room.

As he turned he pressed a few buttons on the panel, made a few slight adjustments with the controllers he had on him.

So it was not a traitor concealed within the ranks of the Twelfth. Just as well – the earlier attack was most probably a stroke of fortune for this insurgent. An actual Garlean would know not to attack him here, where his weapons and tools were prepared. In fact, this would work out well in his favor.

Aulus maneuvered the devices in place remotely, not moving from his position beside the console. That would put him at a disadvantage; for whatever reason, the Eorzean was extremely close to the eikon, well within a range that would be deadly were the creature not sealed.

How had he gotten there?  _Why_ would he go so close, unless perhaps he possessed information concerning the eikon’s abilities and its sealing? How unfortunate he had not excelled in the field of interrogation. At least the undocumented enemy on the ship would present a most useful opportunity to test his more dangerous research.

The moment he arrived at the primal’s side he knew he’d made a mistake. The lights were on in this room, for one, as they had not been before. He dared not take a closer look but he spied at least one white-clad Garlean, a scientist most like, standing beside some Garlean machinery at the far end.

Between him and the man, a number of tables, most of them empty. All save a single one, upon which laid a man who could not be more than a boy…

Estinien had no interest in seeing this, there was no time, but at once he could not help but notice –

It was… uncanny. He knew not what to associate the strange sigil with, the bright red brand that floated above his face, glowing and ominous. For certain, though, it was no magitek, no Garlean device. Estinien could not claim any great ability to sense aether, most of his ability to do so came from the Eye and allowed him to sense dragons, but ‘twas surely a case of some strange, twisted magic the Garleans were researching – perhaps even from Shinryu.

Damn. Not for the first time his failure in Azys La had come back to him. If he had spent more time with you – with the boy – surely he might have the knowledge to identify this strange thing. If only he just been there, been  _with you_ instead of fighting these damn Garleans –

The Garleans you traveled with now,  _traitor and turncoat, kinslayer,_ and the Garleans who would  _notice him_  if he did not hurry! He would have to find somewhere else to hide, bear the storm if need be! He was an Ishgardian dragoon, after all, he had seen worse. If he was knocked from the ship then he would merely jump back up.

Yes, a good enough plan for the moment. But first he had to leave unnoticed.

The Doman before him was sound asleep. He did not even appear to stir, even as it took place. It was altogether entirely unnerving. Estinien wanted naught to do with it, but it could not possibly bode well, he had to warn you before anything came of it.

If there was anyone who knew how to deal with this, it was you… Seven Hells, if only you had a linkpearl with you! If only he could relay this to Lucia to tell you in case something happened. As it was, he had to escape, tell you of this development.

He glances around, searches for an exit with practiced swiftness, eyes darting around as he maneuvers around the primal. If he were lucky enough, he would be out of sight-

“Ah, an Eorzean.”

_ Hells. _

The Eorzean was strong. Or perhaps not – he had little frame of reference. It was not as though he preformed this kind of field observation with any regularity. In any case, it was most fortunate he had these devices at the ready; otherwise, he might have just been killed by the attack.

At once the spearman flew through the air towards him, lashing out with the spear from above in a singular strike; the spear would have landed on him, torn through his coat with ease had he naught the protection of the magitek field.

Aulus was just about to pull out a weapon; a short range device he had come up with when studying that Ala Mhigan subject, one that should emit enough aether to stun any Eorzean capable of using magic, when the elezen suddenly jumped straight back. Landing exactly where he had come from. How very precise.

Still, the subject could not be allowed to flee – that much was easily arranged with a beam from one of his nearby devices, pointed straight at the elezen, a quick burst. He was forced to dodge forwards, having been cornered by the eikon’s prison.

“You’ve want for a fight? You’ll have one, imperial bastard!”

Ah, this should be interesting.

Aulus smiled.

Aulus’s smile grew, even as Estinien closed distance, swiping away at the machines as they tried to snatch at him.

What was the bastard so pleased about? A quick glance around revealed naught – the room was the same as before, those strange devices had not even approached, only set up around him. Some kind of trap?

‘Twas no concern, at least the devices that approached him. They were easy enough to bat away, but there was far enough between him and the scientist that he couldn’t cross it in another jump without destroying the surroundings and setting of some sort of alarm.

Evading the more powerful magitek blasts could be done with a mere jump, otherwise the gunfire would amount to little against his armor. The device’s presence was noted and ignored; this fight could not be allowed to continue. He drew back the spear and prepared to jump at the man and finish him with one full thrust of the weapon, putting the whole of his weight behind it, but light flashed around him as he flew through the air.

In an instant he knew he would land in danger, and there was naught he could do but take the blow.

The last words he heard were,

_ “Initiate Soul Extraction.” _

That smooth, calm face smiled at him, eyes glittering terribly from beneath magitek headgear, and all went black.

With all the calm and indifference that one might expect from a scientist of his caliber, Aulus examined his work. Although that blast of aether – not unlike the eikon’s own – that had emerged from the elezen’s body was most unexpected. It had fried his equipment, rendering it inoperable.  

Aulus had the body placed on the table. Most fortunate, really, that those hands were so maneuverable. A pity Scaeva had defected. Him and Garlond, brilliant minds alike, wasted in those savage nations that had not the resources and infrastructure to support any  _real_ experimental endeavors.

To say nothing of their stomachs. Even within Garlemald, so few were willing to sacrifice for the sake of progress.

His eyes drifted towards the prone elezen once more. The soul extraction seemed to have failed – a pity. More for that Doman boy than anything else. Had it succeeded, he might have insight into the process by which the Resonance had stripped the failed subjects of their souls, left them empty, hollow shells.

The process involved great amounts of aether – which perhaps made it more dangerous for Garleans than Eorzeans – and according to van Baelsar’s reports, that was not entirely dissimilar to the process by which Eorzeans and beast tribes alike became ‘tempered’ by the eikons. Of course, even for Eorzeans, or any race, being exposed to so much aether was dangerous.

At least instead of being tempered, their minds were lost entirely. Aulus supposed that might be considered a kinder fate.

The elezen had not been seriously injured, but the shock that had been delivered with the extraction – an ingenious creation that relied on fields of channeled magical energy through the conduits – would keep him unconscious for the next several hours, at least.

Aulus was just about to approach the subject – examine him – when the sound of the door opening occupied immediately the whole of his attention. There was, after all, only one other who was permitted to enter here without his foreknowledge.

At once he saluted his Lord in greeting. “Lord Zenos.”

Lord Zenos strode into the room without so much as a glance towards the scientist, his eyes fixed on the subject on the table.

The confusion was overwhelming. Since when would the Legatus focus more on the intruder than on the details of the intrusion? Normally he would have demanded an explanation from Aulus, at the moment, but having not been spoken to, the scientist did not speak.

A short noise came from Lord Zenos. Aulus blinked, and then realized it was a  _laugh._

“I will admit I am impressed, Asina. You appear to have acquired a sample all on your own. Perhaps I underestimated your abilities.” Zenos’s voice was low, but as far as Aulus could tell it was with amusement.

The elezen had a  _soul crystal?_ It might have explained some of his abilities, though he had no way of knowing which of those techniques were ones passed on with use of these crystals.

By the look on Lord Zenos’s face, it would seem neither of them had been expecting this. Aulus bowed, then made to go to the elezen’s side, to find and retrieve the crystal.

“Stop.”

Aulus did as his Lord bid, only looking at him with a neutral expression. Waiting patiently for whatever explanation he deigned to give.

Lord Zenos’s smile betrayed naught but a desire Aulus had barely seen before. Only in those days before they had left Ala Mhigo; in those times where he had commanded the movement of the eikon from one place to another, or examined it. In any case, if Lord Zenos was in an agreeable mood that worked only to his benefit.

“I would see this savage’s skills for myself. A control test, if you would. Before we remove the crystal and examine it.”

There was some data available for what Eorzeans could do with soul crystals… but with a specific crystal being studied and replicated, the extra information would be invaluable. Lord Zenos’s observation was quite sound, and of course if he intended to do the observing himself, that would only increase the information he had without any risk of any problematic injuries to personnel.

“What would you have done with him, my Lord? He will awake in several hours.”

“I would see him at full strength.”

Aulus was familiar with this intention. He supposed it would make for a useful study, at least.

“I will tranquilize him, then, and arrange for him to awaken with minimal side effects. The process shall last several hours.”

Lord Zenos’s smile grew, and grew. “Good. Have him delivered to my quarters before then.”

A strange place to conduct such an examination, but who was he to question? This savage may have resisted his devices, but the elezen was certainly not going to do anything Lord Zenos didn’t want him to do. He should have some machines still functional to conduct the delivery, or else there would be plenty of time to repair one.

He would be eager to study the crystal afterwards; perhaps that was the source of this strange resistance to the soul extraction. It may even tell more of how the Eorzean had gotten into here. Or Lord Zenos may have not

But for now, all he could do was have the elezen medicated and transported. Lord Zenos would have a matter of hours to prepare or plan until then.

With the look on his Lord’s face, however – well. Perhaps he was  _planning;_ inasmuch as a savage would require such a thing to face. Lord Zenos had grown fond of the Resonance, and it was to his utter delight as a scientist that the Lord had also become so proficient with it in such a short time. A prodigy indeed.

Oh, he did pity the savage. Even the Warrior of Light would not be able to save him – not when you did not even  _know_ he was in danger.

 

 

You moved to enter, quick to see who it was inside, but were unable to.

Below you, the ground shifted, tilting your weight beyond anything you would be able to stand with. You lowered yourself, adjusting your legs for better footing. This had happened to you before, on Cid’s airships. But then, they had always been much smaller than these enormous Garlean flagships. Large enough to contain… well, Shinryu, apparently.

You blinked.

What… What  _would_ it take to rock a ship this big?

The answer was immediately obvious. The selfsame primal. But if Shinryu had escaped, you would have  _noticed._ Even a concentrated attempt to sense the creature did nothing to assuage you; as far as you could tell, there were only traces of its aether stirring about. Reaching further, you could tell there was more of that malevolent aether stirring in the air – but it was… different, somehow. More concentrated, focused.

For a moment it lingered, but not nearly long enough for you to get a better feel for it. No, somehow the aether vanished as though it had dissipated at once –

Or a leak had been sealed off. But if the aether that had escaped already was affecting the weather around you… just how powerful  _was_ Shinryu?

Papalymo’s last words come back to you. His smile. He hadn’t looked scared. Not even a little.

That was why you’d been able to leave him there, honestly. If he’d shown any hesitation, even the slightest bit of fear or worry, you would have picked the lalafell right up and dragged him onto the airship with you.

Maybe Papalymo had known that, and still hidden it. Maybe he’d spent the last few seconds of his life in terror, unable to speak a word, determined that his friends wouldn’t remember him so. It was the sort of thing he would do, wasn’t it?

_ Enough of this sulking. _

That spell was the same one that had sealed away Bahamut. Sealed away the Seventh Umbral Era. And now it was sealing away this Shinryu. At Zenos’s behest. You didn’t know how, but in their research of the Allagans, perhaps of the very events that took place at Baelsar’s Wall, the Garleans had replicated it somehow, for Shinryu.

And it was headed straight for Garlemald. And its cage, whatever echo remained of Papalymo’s seal, was…

Was…

_ “Let’s see how much your student has learned, master…” _

Breaking…

_ If you leave the monster, it will surely erase a number of our – of  _ **_ Eorzea’s _ ** _  problems – in our stead. No one would miss Garlemald, I assure you. _

You blinked. Leaving Garlemald to – leaving the entire  _continent,_ potentially, to be wiped out –

_ It’s nothing they haven’t already done to Eorzea. _

Tired and weary, the old objection rises within you. Old but more powerful than anything else, what had driven you to be a hero in the first place. The people –  _all those people._  They couldn’t do anything at all to protect themselves, they had no hope at all besides your willingness to defend them.

_ If they had been of that mind they would never have gone through with the Meteor project. _

That meant nothing. The vast majority of Garleans were almost certainly perfectly innocent people, like everyone else. The citizens of the Empire, however bigoted they may be – and only some of them, mind! – did not deserve to be outright murdered. Tempered. Overcome and annihilated, completely, by an enemy they had no chance at all of defeating.

_ Oh, that changes everything. Only  _ some _of them are bigoted. In that case, we really must run ourselves into the ground saving them from their own foolishness, shouldn’t we? It was a Garlean who brought this upon them. They have only themselves to blame._

Zenos had brought this upon them, but he wasn’t the one who had to face the consequences for it! Zenos was  _powerful,_ he didn’t have to-

_ Zenos is powerful, like they should be. He is only a single person, not even blessed by Hydaelyn – and yet he can fight on our level, perhaps even above it. Leave them to fend for themselves; they are not worthy of our suffering to save them. _

Leave and do  _what_ exactly? If you were being perfectly honest with yourself… what else did you have to do? Would you just wander the land, knowing there was a primal out there only you could kill, and do nothing?

_ You – what would you –  _ It was an interesting sensation, to have a part of yourself speechless. Bereft of words.

_ Quiet!  _ Fray sounded angry, but you knew all too well your darkside was anything but. Sadness and confusion, despair and desperation; all these things swirled within the Abyss. _You could fight when you want to fight. You could search for things that made you happy. Find the pieces of yourself you’d lost by becoming Warrior of Light. You could be whole again._

Impossible. Even if you could bring yourself to walk away, it would gnaw at the back of your mind, you wouldn’t be able to do  _anything_ without remembering who you’d left to fend for themselves.

Alphinaud and Alisaie’s sweet, youthful faces, the twins always so filled with energy and eagerness to help the world, forced to watch untold horrors; Hien and Aymeric watching disasters unfold  _again,_ people you had never even met crying out for you to save them and wondering why you were not there. It all hurt too much to think of, and you knew it was all you’d be able to think about if you stopped… being you. The Warrior of Light.

_ How accepting you are of this burden placed upon your shoulders, how devoted you are to their well being. They would not do the same for you.  _ Fray seethes, hissing quietly, before descending into a wrathful silence.

You blinked. Of all the things your darkside had ever said to you…

…Of all the things Fray had ever said, all the arguments you’d heard telling you not to bother saving people… that was one you hadn’t heard before. And it wasn’t one you could just brush away.

…They would do the same for you. They would. Aymeric, House Fortemps; Raubhan and Nanamo, and the other Alliance leaders; Hein and Yugiri and all of Doma; Alphinaud and Alisaie and the rest of the Scions – even Estinien, surely. If you were ever in danger they would all surely… They would all, surely…

They would all at least…  _want_ to save you…

Fray’s silence speaks louder than words. You know the truth; your darkside does not need to voice it.

All the people who you’d saved might  _want_ to save you back. They may want to return the favor. But they wouldn’t be able to. They would never be to you what you were to them; you would always be their hero, and they would always be, the thing – the  _people_ you had to protect. It wasn’t their fault, you reminded yourself.

It wasn’t their fault. If they could, then they  _would._

Old arguments, old compassion – it was strong. But it could only carry you so far.

Find the pieces of yourself – get back what you’d lost, in being who you were now... You weren’t sure what it even meant, how you would go about it, and you knew Fray would not tell you unless you had already made the decision to do it. You wouldn’t, of course. But the idea appealed to you somehow, eased your tiredness.

Made the dark shadows of the hall seem – not quite lighter, but warmer, less foreboding. Made it easier to think, not of the people you’d left behind, but of the Abyss you had dwelled within, to remember the place without hurting. You supposed if this is what Fray wanted, of course it would help you in the arts dark knights dealt with.

Fray said nothing, uncharacteristically. Either way, it mattered not.

Whoever was in your room – it couldn’t be Estinien, he wouldn’t be fool enough to leave the door open. Lucia? Your heart raced at the thought; that would solve so many of your problems; even if her linkpearl  _was_ broken, you could warn her about Zenos’s suspicions, get her to convince Estinien to leave.

She was always the cautious type. For sure, she’d work out a way to get herself and Aymeric’s best friend out of here. Maybe even bring word back to reassure the Alliance that you intended to help them – from the inside, more or less.

_ You wish.  _ It was a pretty wish-fullfilling fantasy, but a Warrior of Light could dream, right?

Fray didn’t dignify that with an answer, either. You supposed it wasn’t a very funny joke.

All that came to a grinding halt when, from inside the room, a name was called – your own. You recognized the voice, of course.

_ Are you  _ **_ happy  _ ** _ to hear that voice? Bloody hell.  _ Enough of that. This was perfect timing. If ever there was a moment for the slimy young man to show up at inappropriate places, it was now.  _You do realize how that sounds, yes?_

Unabated, you rushed into the room, throwing the door closed behind you, and fixed your gaze at the intruder, who had crossed his arms facing you.

_ What is he doing, looking at us like that?  _ It didn’t make sense, but then again, it didn’t make sense that he would desert his post in the first place. None of that mattered now.

“Asahi, where have you been?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Attention!** If you like seeing the updates to this story, PLEASE let me know in the comments if you prefer this sort of update to previous ones. Previous ones _were_ faster, of course, but at the moment I'm publishing shorter chapters (often with cliffhangers because it entertains me, and they make good stopping points). For example, I have at least two scenes (the one that is written is like 1000 words long) that would have originally been included in this chapter had I not felt obliged to at least post _something_ in a sort-of timely manner. Would you guys have preferred a longer chapter if it had meant waiting, say, another two weeks? Ultimately I'll do whatever I feel is sustainable for myself, but I'd really like to know what you guys think because I don't want to work myself over when you guys maybe don't even mind having long chapters - I hear some people dislike them. Please let me know it at all possible!
> 
> In further news - remind me never to write from Aulus’s POV ever again. I might not have been doing this before explicitly, but It annoys me so much to call Zenos “Lord Zenos” every time >:(
> 
> I imagine y’all can guess now what character tags I’m frustrated about adding? If you’ve been paying close attention (or just followed fan theories during pre-Stormblood), you probably know what exactly is up with Asahi, and why. If not, maybe post some of your theories in the comments along with your "What do you mean three weeks is in a timely manner" lol.


	19. The Storm II

Asahi said nothing for a moment. Only looked at you with those black, black eyes.

“I thought I was not needed,” He said, voice strangely distant, lilted. None of the obnoxious cheer of before, none of the forced familiarity.

 _It’s almost unnerving._ It **is** unnerving. Along with something else you cannot quite place, but then, Asahi had always been strange.

“Would Zenos say the same?” You snapped, certain that would cut to the quick of him.

It didn’t. Asahi smiled at you, and it looked almost more sincere than _any_ smile you’d ever seen from him. Positively _horrifying._

“So he would, as you well know.”

What was this upfront honesty _,_ this straightforwardness? The boy may as well not even be a Doman anymore. _I like it._

Yes, your darkside _would_ like this. _You_ liked this. But it was also distinctly _not_ the way Asahi normally acted. _We’ve known him precious few days either way. Perhaps he was taking his time reconsidering his attitude._

That almost made you laugh aloud. Asahi hadn’t struck you as the introspective type, though if it was along the lines of better manipulating you, advancing his status, you could imagine him taking on a new strategy.

“Then why have you returned, if you’ve deemed yourself so unneeded?”

Asahi’s lips twitched at that. What did he expect, that you wouldn’t ask that question?

“I meant not to say I would shirk my duties.” He said dryly. “I had come to your room to apologize for my absence.”

“You’ve already shirked your duties. Where _were_ you?” You demanded, crossing your arms as you stared him down from the doorway.

His eyes narrowed. “I was performing a certain service for Lord Zenos’s personal magitek researcher.”

“Aulus?” What would Asahi have to do with _him?_ And who would have given Asahi any directions when Zenos has already commanded him to be your servant?

Servant – where did _that_ come from? _It’s an entertaining thought, is it not?_ Maybe, but Asahi certainly wasn’t acting like it.

“The same.” Asahi said, and it took you a moment to catch up with his annoyed expression as he stepped forward, probably to get around you to the exit.

You didn’t budge one bit, instead gazing down at him with all the intimidation power you’d known Zenos to show. Although, being who he was, he probably had a bit more practice with it.

“Your apology?” That was – wasn’t that laying it on a bit thick? _Absolutely not. Did he not already say he had come to apologize?_

It was true, but it didn’t stick well with you to just… demand it like that. _We saved his pitiful life, and he rewards us by running off to do whatever he did during the **one** moment we could actually use his help. And you don’t want an apology?! _

You didn’t. Not really. You were the Warrior of Light, the hero and savior – you were the one who did what had to be done. It wasn’t in your nature to expect things from people. Much like the storm raging outside, the Crown Prince who had fought you and invited you here – other people were just a part of the scenery, a part of the world you couldn’t control. You planned around what they did, worked with it the best you could, and never relied upon them to act a certain way. Asahi’s absence had only exacerbated your personal failure to solve the situation on your own.

In this world, you had what you were strong enough to take for yourself, and no more. If you needed someone else, it meant you were weak. It meant you needed to be stronger.

“I… am… _sorry._ ” Asahi ground out, more stilted and choked than you had ever imagined the boy could speak. Some silver tongue.

“Good, then. If you’re so _sorry,_ you can tell me what you were doing with Aulus.”

“’Tis not for you to know. It concerns none but those involved.” Asahi’s denial was rigid, unlike anything you’d ever heard from him. What in the world would make get him to talk like this?

 _Shinryu._ It made sense. Still, why would Asahi be in such a bad mood? To be trusted with this information should be an honor to him. Having an excuse to deny you that information and pretend he had some special knowledge over you – the Asahi you knew would salivate at the thought.

Still, you couldn’t let him get away just yet. There were still _some_ things you needed to know from him.

“Fine, if you refuse to tell me that. But I _do_ want to know something else – do you know of a woman named Lucia? One who was recently stationed in Eorzea?”

“Aye.” Well, _that_ was surprising.

“What do you know of her then? Can you tell me where she is now?”

A loud _crack_ of thunder sounded, then, filling the room and lingering for just a heartbeat before the boy replied.

“Dead.”

You paused, in shock; Asahi must have seen it on your face. He kept himself impassive, but somehow you felt a distinct air of satisfaction coming from him. Honestly. The boy owed you his life. If he was going to be bitter about it, why did it show only now? _Mayhap something else has him acting like this._

Not to mention – Lucia, _dead._

“How do you know? When did it happen?” The questioned poured out of you easily, despite Asahi’s impatient shifting.

“T’was an accident, days ago, wherein she fell from the side of the ship. The incident is under investigation. Any more details are also not for you to know.” Instantly, you knew.

 _The insurgent. Assassin. They’re still searching for whoever it was._ They must have thought that the insurgent targeted Lucia, as well, or that she was the insurgent herself. _For all we know, it very well might have been._

Your first instinct was that you should tell Estinien – he needed to know about the situation right away. However… _You know as well as I. This will do naught but spark the desire for more vengeance within him._

If you told Estinien that Lucia was dead, he would _never_ leave. And now more than ever you needed him to return to Eorzea, let you handle this situation on your own. What was _he_ going to do here? Sneaking around in his plainly Eorzean armor aboard a Garlean airship. What could he possibly do to find Lucia’s killer, or to deal with Shinryu?

 _Nothing. But he does so enjoy pretending there is something he can do. They all do._ That was a little mean spirited. The Scions had always been well aware of their limits, of the things they simply could not do at all, despite a few failures here and there. _And more than happy to have an excuse to throw us at their problems. Of course._

Asahi stepped even further forward, near uncomfortably close, and met your eyes. “Is there aught else you would ask of me? I’ve other obligations to meet.”

 _We don’t have anything else to ask. Keeping him here would be a waste of time._ But Lucia – Asahi was clearly not telling you everything. Maybe there was a chance she was still alive?

 ** _Stop it._** The venom in Fray’s words nearly made you shudder. _You have been worrying this entire time about others when you still – it’s obvious Asahi won’t tell us anything. We don’t have time to deal with him._

It was strange, not to be sure of your own thoughts, what Fray meant by that. Obviously, you _did_ know, in the back of your mind, otherwise Fray could not be thinking of it, but a familiar, dark, sickly feeling creeps over you at the feeling of unawareness. You needed to get this over with, fast.

“Go ahead,” You said, stepping to the side to allow Asahi to pass through the doorway.

Briskly, he strode from the room and turned down the corridor. Your eyes followed his figure until the first turn he took, out of your vision.

You closed the door behind you at once, retreating further into the room. Pulling off your wet clothes as you moved, trying not to fall over as the ship swayed beneath you.

_Asahi has no reason to lie to us about anything that happened to Lucia. Not when he knows we are in a position where we could discover his lie by asking someone else. Even in the unlikely event she survived this fall – the ‘insurgent’ also tried that on Aulus. It was nighttime when it happened, and especially considering we never saw who did it – it’s possible whoever did it couldn’t quite see who they were pushing, either._

…Fray suspected that the insurgent was targeting _you?_

_Eorzeans. We know how Garleans are. Any pureblood on this ship would take issue with the Eikon Slayer accompanying the Crown Prince as his personal guest. Especially after ending their reign of power in Doma and Ala Mhigo. Lucia could easily become a target by association; perhaps she was seen with Estinien, they heard that she had met us, or this insurgent simply didn’t like how much time she’d spent in Eorzea._

Still, what threat could this person possibly pose to you? Far greater was the danger to Estinien, and Lucia may have lost her _life._

_You have been warning Estinien against the danger from the start! He and Lucia both chose to come here, knowing they walked into enemy ranks – but **you** came here under the presumption of safety! An attack on you could come from anywhere – food and drink, a trap laid outside the door, an attack planned in your sleep. _

Zenos would not allow such a thing… but Zenos didn’t have to allow it. Whatever power he had over the Twelfth was not enough to stop the attack on Aulus, or on you – whichever one it had been.

Still, in any case, none of those things would actually be enough to kill you, most likely. You’d survive more or less anything save Zenos himself coming for your head while you were asleep. And even in that case, you’d like to think you could hear him coming. _This is no game. There could be someone on this ship who truly means to do you harm._

You almost had to stifle a laugh. _That is – it is – this is **not** something you should see as – as – just another part of life. You deserve better than this. _

What had Fray been thinking? That you’d be welcomed into Garlemald with open arms? _That you would be rid of those who mean to use you! This is your chance to make something of yourself. Fight Zenos on your own terms, for your own reasons! Have we not spent enough time slaving away to the ends of others? Have we not struggled to gain power, so that we might not suffer such threats as this?_

You… you really didn’t know. It was hard to say, because it was hard to think about. Why you’d become the Warrior of Light, why you’d become an adventurer. What you’d originally wanted when you set out…

 _The past is the past. There is no use dwelling upon it._ Your darkside _would_ say that. _Even if I **am** being self-serving, that’s only ever going to help **you!** But more to the point – are those footsteps outside? _

In an instant you knew who it was, because, really, who else would it be?

“Zenos,” You said, opening the door to see the selfsame man. Dressed in the same armor as he always was.

“Warrior of Light.” Zenos stepped forward without any pause.

Taking a step back to maintain a reasonable distance, you asked, “What are you here for? To continue our conversation?”

Your voice was dripping with disdain, with open annoyance. Zenos would have taken offense, had it not been _exactly_ what he intended.

“Indeed, I have.” He said, prowling forth even further, letting the door close behind him. The sight of your eyes trained on him, following his form intently as you moved to counter his aggression – how it made his blood sing.

It was not the time for battle, not even the time for Resonance – this feeling would have to be contained, directed towards other pursuits. All too plain was your unwillingness to part with your friends, to your attachments. This _idea_ of fighting for some greater purpose, for some grand design…

That _wasn’t_ what made you who you were. The invincible, all-powerful Warrior before him. That _wasn’t_ it, _couldn’t_ be it – no one could be driven to do that by such petty external forces. Such a power could only come from within.

“Really? And what more do you have to ask? There’s no more to say. You know how I feel already, you know I’m not going to change my mind – I gave you our answer.” _Careful, there._ You nearly cursed yourself for the slip, but it wasn’t as though Zenos had any way of knowing what it was.

Zenos noticed, of course. How could he not? Still, it was strange to hear you say _our_ answer. You must have meant your ‘friends’, that dragoon, the Alliance members. But you had always spoken so personally to him, your confrontations had largely been within that strange Abyss you carried in your mind, Echo against Resonance.

But who else could have given aught to that answer? Always, when he came to you with questions you left him with even more still. From another, it would be unthinkable, but in this case, it was just another hunt. And with such a prey as you – there was no higher honor.

“Perhaps I have _other_ questions, then.” Zenos said, with all the authority his position possessed.

Naturally, you were unaffected. “What’s it to me if you have more questions? I told you, I’m not here to tell you whatever you want to hear. I’ll share what I choose to, and no more.”

“As you say,” He dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. Your scoff was almost entertaining. “Tell me, then. What was it _before?_ ”

Confusion flitted across your guarded face for but a moment; it was obvious that you were not expecting to hear such a question. That you weren’t even certain what he meant.

“Before you and I met. _Before,_ ” Your answer was clear already, he could see it forming in your mind; he would _not_ be made to suffer through another tedious response about the duties of a hero and the obligations it gave you, that was _not_ his intent, “You became the vaunted Eikon Slayer _,_ the _Warrior of Light._ What was it that drove you then, when you had no one to protect, no nations relying upon you?”

“I…” Your averted gaze told him such delicious truths about how rarely you thought on this, what uncertainty he had managed to invoke in you. And still he wanted more.

“Take a moment, if you wish. Two, perhaps. To compose your thoughts.” Zenos said, lips curving upward in a wide smile.

“How generous of you.”

The laugh sprung from him almost unbidden, a short burst and naught more, but still it flowed out like the warmth in his veins had thrummed during battle. “So I am often told.”

At once he spied a quirk on your lips, intriguing in its strangeness. Exciting, even. It was so much more fun to hunt when one’s prey was itself a hunter. When you might turn against him at any moment, lash out unpredictably, with unstoppable force.

“If you’re waiting to hear that all I wanted was to fight and I spent all my time searching for more powerful enemies – well, it’s true in part, but I didn’t do it for the sake of fighting. I’d never thought of fighting as my purpose in itself. I never have.”

“Come to your point. You have no need to placate me before telling me your answer. Such is your right as one with power; the right to believe as you wish.” _However foolish it may be,_ he didn’t say, but you heard it in his voice all the same.

You sighed, and thought back. So far back. Before you’d even set foot in Ishgard – before you’d ever heard of the Ascians – so far back. Before Ifrit, even. What had you been doing…?

 _An adventurer. You were an adventurer, new and fresh and walking into the Guild and Inn without a hint of worry in your heart._ It was all so long ago.

“I was an adventurer. Do you,” This could be harder to explain than you’d thought, “Do you have those, in Garlemald?”

Zenos’s blank, expectant stare told you all you needed to know. Really, you should have expected as much.

“Well, adventurers in Eorzea are just… they’re just people. Ordinary men and women who take up arms and have decided to solve the thousands of problems that the common folk come across in their day to day. Some of them large, but most of them very small. It’s a lot of errand running, but there are plenty of beasts to be slain, foes to defeat, and even once in a while there’s an area you have to go through and clear out. There’s more to it than that, but that’s most of what adventurers do.”

Zenos blinked. Unimpressed. Condescension was dripping from his voice when he next spoke, “A glorified servant’s work, then. Why would you have bothered with such things, except to find greater conquests?”

Greater conquests. Servant’s work. A slave, he was thinking; just as your darkside had accused you. _Do not compare me to such a creature. I at least know myself; he seems to know naught but his pithy pleasures, what few there are._ Know yourself, indeed. A _tsk_ fell from your lips before you could even think about it.

“Does _everything_ sound tiresome to you?” The question came out with rhetorical acidity, but you did really want to know. “I didn’t enjoy the menial errands, but in my quests, I learned about the people around me, the world around me, the things that were happening in Eorzea because of the various forces at play. From each battle I gained something; experience, if nothing else.”

“Experience?” You met his incredulity head on; it was better than outright dismissal.

“Yes, experience. I started out a novice in all respects –  as far below you as the earth beneath our feet from the sun.” Just the though of Zenos knowing that person, that _weak_ person you were, makes you shudder. “And yes, I served others. I worked _._ Fought, most of the time, but even when I fought I was learning from it, figuring out how to read my opponents,

Your tale of growth as a warrior, of the search for greater knowledge and power – ‘twas not an unfamiliar one. No, Zenos remembered his own days as a youth. Casing what power he could, the fleeting sense of being _unable_ to do something, of grasping for answers, racking his mind for solutions, stretching his idea of doing battle, of how to fight and gliding through combat with the feeling of being _more,_ doing _more,_ surpassing, _transcending_ all he thought he could be.

“Even then…” Even then, you were at the core the Warrior who faced him now. The only one who could.

“I’ve _changed_ since then, Zenos.” You said, thinking back to the Reach, back to the person you’d been before fighting your way through a war on two fronts, before losing twice to a Garlean who had not seemed to exert the tiniest effort to crush you. “I’m not the person I was when we first met.”

His response was instantaneous. “Of course you are not. That amateur who could not fight me is gone, replaced with one who has the strength to face my full might.”

It always came back to that, everything came back to that – that was really all there was for him, wasn’t it? Zenos had nothing else. Cared for nothing else. Strength and power and the ability to fight, to make him work for it. While you had grown powerful enough to face him, just what had he done to face you?

He’d stayed the same. The whole time, he’d stayed the same, and now he wanted to act like the Warrior of Light he’d faced in the Reach was nothing like the Warrior of Light who stood before him now, as the rival he wanted.

“Why did you invite me to come with you, Zenos?” You asked, sounding no small part tired, and no smaller part frustrated.

 _If you cared about that answer, you should have asked before leaving with him._ You almost frowned at Fray’s acerbic remark; why was your darkside acting this way _now?_

“Because you are like me.”

You choked out a laugh to his face, so set with certainty. He really thought he knew it all, didn’t he? In fact, he didn’t even _mean_ that you were ‘like him’, he meant that you were _powerful like him,_ and that wasn’t the same thing but somehow it was all the same to Zenos.

“Is that the only reason you can think of?”

Blue eyes bored into you, questioning, demanding. You didn’t bother responding, didn’t indulge him, and soon Zenos spoke up to get his answer.

“Do tell me – in what way do you find this reason _insufficient?_ You think we are not alike?” His tone rose with the questions, letting you know just exactly what he thought of that line of reasoning.

 _Let him think that. He may think whatever he pleases – he will do so anyways. He can ask and ask, but he’s not really **trying** to understand us. _He wasn’t interested in you being anything but what he wanted to think of you as.

“See, that’s it. That’s exactly it.” You gave him a pointed, condescending look, as though you expected him not to understand what you meant. “You don’t want to hear me do anything but agree with you. At least if you’re going to be like that, stop pretending to care what I think. I’ll fight you anyways, you know.”

That was what mattered to him, after all. You had no obligation to oblige him at all, but you did so because it pleased you, it suited your purposes. _Isn’t it a bit late for you to be thinking that?_

Zenos parted his lips to give his answer, but the minute, fleeting rise of his brows did not go unnoticed. You were relieved when it disappeared – confusion didn’t suit his face.

“All you have ever needed to say, you have said through actions; a true warrior, indeed. In our first two meetings we exchanged no words at all. It is who we are – _what_ we are, that has led us to this place now.”

“Oh? And pray tell, Zenos – what is it that _we are,_ exactly?”

He looked at you with narrowed eyes, with a scathingly blasé lilt to his brows. “Powerful. Enough to put us far beyond our so-called peers – beyond any people in this world, human or beast or eikon alike.”

_Above all others, are we?_

You give him a wry smile, but a sad one. “You really do think of me the way everyone else does, don’t you?”

Like a blade clashing against a greatsword Zenos met your question in an instant, “And why should I not?! This is what you are! A warrior beyond compare, beyond any who have come before you. Transcendent-”

It was too much, all the words crashed onto you like accusations. Nothing was praise anymore, things like that weren’t things people said to reassure you, to compliment you. Now it was a statement of fact, just another reason on the long list of reasons you were sent to save the world by yourself.

“I’m a living, breathing _person,_ Zenos. I’m not a beast or a god, not a force of nature _._ ”

“You may as well be. So far beyond anyone’s power to touch, to change – there is nothing closer to a god than this.” The words came, solid and matter-of-fact, as certain of themselves as Zenos always was.

“That’s what people _do_.” It was tiring to have to explain this. You hadn’t even been able to explain this to anyone else, you weren’t sure you could even explain it to _yourself,_ and yet here you were, trying for him. “You change, you learn and grow. There’s so much going on inside my head that you don’t know about, even with the Resonance. It’s all thoughts, feelings, desires, just like you have in your own mind.”

 _Oh, certainly, you have changed on the outside, grown in power. But what’s really different for you now? You’re just as miserable, just as lost as you’ve always been. All you’ve lost is still gone forever, eternally out of reach._ Then what could be done about it? What would Fray have you do?

Even if you had the same purpose, even if you were fighting for the same tired old reasons; that was still what drove you to improve. At least you _had_ some drive, at least you didn’t stagnate, rest assured that you were more powerful than those surrounding you. No challenge was too great or too small, no promise too great to make, too hard to keep.

 _You’ll kill yourself like this._ You knew you would, but what else was there? You couldn’t just let people fend for themselves when there was something within your power to do.

 _Yes, you can._ No. And you’d fight as long as it took to protect those people who couldn’t protect themselves. And Fray was – Fray was right. You had to look out for yourself if you wanted to stay alive, and that was what you were _doing,_ otherwise you wouldn’t be here. You were _trying._ You really, really were.

Just like you always had. Only this time, you were forced to choose between what was best for others, and for yourself.

“What import could any of this possibly be – you’ve still chosen to follow me, your rival. You’ve still chosen the path of power, of battle.” Zenos said, but you could hear at least some confusion, some uncertainty.

Most likely, he was thinking about the Resonance, how he’d used it. If nothing else, it was proof that there was so much more beneath the surface. There was more to the warrior he knew, and when he’d met it he’d even _liked_ it. _But he had not understood._

No, he’d really never understood, had he? Was there anything you could say to make it clear to him what you meant? That you wanted to be more than a warrior who lived for battle alone, who lived _in_ battle alone. You wanted more, just a little more, you wanted to feel anything more than what he seemed to think of as the only worthwhile feeling in the world.

You sighed. “All right, maybe – You’ve thought about fighting me, right?”

The look on Zenos’s face suggested not only that he did, but he also thought it obvious.

With grace you met his unimpressed look, “And I bet you’ve thought a lot of things about the battle you want to fight with me. I imagine you’ve decided that you don’t want anything to get in the way, that you want us both to be at our very best, and… it doesn’t matter if you won or lost.”

Your last words were enough to put shock on his face, his eyes widening for but a moment, then narrowing. The corner of his lip curved up for a moment, but he still stared at you with brows raised.

“…Perhaps.”

You scoffed. It wasn’t to his advantage to confirm it, but you already knew either way so what was his point playing around it? _He’s just being difficult._

The look on Zenos’s face – a cat watching a toy swing past it, eagerly waiting its moment to strike – confirmed it. _He is absolutely being difficult. I do pity his subordinates._ Zenos, you knew, would not in a million years bother toying with his subordinates. Not unless he meant to punish or kill. No, you suspected he was pleased to watch you struggle and fumble for words as he lashed out at you, accusation after assertion.

 _It’s working._ It was **not** working.

“Well,” You began, “Does it surprise you to know that I put just as much thought to that battle as you have? That I’ve been wondering what is going to happen, what I want to happen, and what I can do about it?”

Perhaps the greater part of your concerns had been what was to come for Eorzea and your old friends – but that wasn’t going to help get your point across to Zenos.

“Of course you have.” Zenos said, almost to himself. “Whatever has happened between us, it changes not our shared destiny. The longing for battle is as strong within you–”

“Again, that’s what I was talking about.” You sounded tired again. Like you had before. Zenos liked that even less than the implication that you did not long for the thrill as he had, though not quite as little as he liked your interrupting him. If it meant he could hear you speak more, however, it could be in part forgiven.

It is the look of hesitation on your face, of doubt – that Zenos cannot forgive. “Yes, I do want to fight you. But do you really think it’s because – because I want to feel the thrill of battle? Do you think I enjoy risking my life, my power, my very being and purpose – all for the sake of the ephemeral joy of the fight?”

“What you feel is more than enough.” It was all that mattered. To him, and to you. “I have seen it a thousand times upon your face, in the heat of battle. You love it, you _live_ for it; there is no greater purpose, no nobler pursuit, no purer feeling.”

“But it’s not just about how it feels!” You snapped, turning to face him with a familiar fire in your eyes.

It was frustrating, unbelievably so – how could you tell Zenos in so many words, and still have him not understand? Over and over he said these things, and _still_ he didn’t understand what mattered to you. He didn’t want to, did he? _No one ever wanted to._

Not that it would stop you from telling him.

“Yes, I know the feeling you speak of. I love it – I’ve chased after it, even. But I wasn’t always like this! You wouldn’t have taken a second glance at the person I was before – you _didn’t!”_

There’s a tone in your voice – an accusation, almost, that has Zenos… uncertain. You’d spoken of this before, about how you weren’t always the Warrior he knew now – and he’d known it, of course. But you had grown stronger, and that made you worthy. Why did you dwell so on your former weakness?

“There is naught of worth to you, except what you can _do,_ what power you possess. You know this as well as I. This world belongs to those who have power, and those who have power have no use for this world; only for the few pleasures left we may seek out.”

“But _I’m not like that!_ ” You snapped in frustration. Most surprising. How did it tire you to speak of these things, when you were the one who denied everything, and he was the one who had to press you? “I wasn’t always like this, Zenos! I was once a nobody, just another adventurer, traveling the world, scraping out a living, doing naught of use for anyone until I was _called!”_

Zenos knows naught of this calling, but the tone of your voice, the vehemence of your denial; it cannot be without cause. “So you say. But somehow you still stand before you today, as the person you are now. That person from the Abyss.”

 _He cannot leave well enough alone, can he? Why don’t you just talk to him in the way he understand?_ No. How could you possibly tell him you don’t enjoy violence for its own sake by _enacting violence_ on him? That wouldn’t work.

You fought because fighting made you feel good about yourself, made you feel like you were strong, like you were _worth_ something. And yes, because it was fun, but – but this was what you wanted him to understand. If he could.

It wasn’t the same for you. The challenge for you meant you walked away stronger; for Zenos, it meant he felt _good_ taking it on. That was a part of it for you, sure, but not the whole of it. For so long before meeting Zenos, you’d languished, sitting at your current level without anything to challenge you, having bested everything that had come before you.

Only upon meeting him did you see how much more there was – and all at once, how much more you had to do. It was exciting and exhausting and just… it was clear, for the first time, what other people thought of you, how they saw you – what they expected from you. How far a cry you were from that green adventurer the Scions has recruited…

Stupid, you felt stupid. How was Zenos supposed to understand any of this? He had always been powerful.

You weren’t like him at all, were you?

 

For a moment, Zenos considered to himself.

There was naught greater in this world than the joy of battle, the spectacle and thrill of putting one’s all on display, setting it all upon the line as a testament to one’s own worth.

To fight was to revel – to live in the moment, to relish each and every sensation, of pounding blood, straining exertion and adrenaline that only you could pull from him; an exhilaration like no other. It was because of your strength that you could push him to such limits, and to touch those limits – to soar beyond – that was something worth living for. It made the fight itself the ends worth fighting for, and why he had not taken battle with you before in the Ala Mhigan throne room.

But for you… You loved to fight, but you loved it because it _changed_ you? Because the act of battle made you someone different? Because of what it meant for you… _after_ the battle.

Change, you’d said. You’d done it before – Zenos had seen you do it. He had done it himself, wrested the power of the Resonance from nothing by his own power.

And yet still. Your face, stony save for a twist of consternation on your brow, stared up at him in expectation. The way you had grown was not like how he had grown; your improvement not like his. What you spoke of was different. So alike to the hunt for power that had enraptured him in his earlier years, and still so far apart.

“Enough of that,” You said, drawing him from his deliberation, “I wanted to know something – about someone on this ship.”

His brows rose. If this was about Maxima or Asahi, it would be sorely disappointing. Perhaps even cause to end their inconvenient presence on this ship. More and more, you fussed over these political matters.

“Yes?”

“Do you know of a woman named Lucia? She would have been recently stationed in Ishgard, as an Imperial spy.”

“A most incompetent one.” Zenos drawled, crossing his arms as he leaned to the side.

“Do you know of her or not?”

Entertaining though your annoyance was, it was even more annoying to have you take an interest in such things. Already he could tell you meant to ask him after this insignificant woman’s welfare. Even were you to press him again over politics, that would be more entertaining than this.

“I am aware of a spy having returned from deployment, most like the one of which you speak.” How irritating. You were going to ask him more about this, weren’t you?

“Can I speak to her?” Of course you did.

And was this woman a someone of any consequence? Did she possess power such as yours, such as his? Did she possess this special capacity for _change,_ would she grow as you had if pressed? The answer was plain. “No.”

Oh, but the look you gave him _was_ something worthwhile.

“And why not?” Your indignation was clear in your posture, stance shifted, arms tensed as though to pull out your weapon. How _invigorating._

In fact…

An idea sprung to mind, unbidden, in the face of your demanding gaze. Another idea quickly followed – and another. Several plans, come together at once… yes, this would be _most_ suitable.

“Is it truly of so much import?” Zenos would be pleased to hear you deny it, even if it would make things difficult, but of course you would do no such thing.

“…No, I just wanted to speak with her. Since she’s under your command, I didn’t want to put you or her in an awkward position by contacting a former spy without your leave.”

Such _diplomacy._ You might do very well with Maxima, the Populares – his father, even. It was almost surprising to hear you give such a glib reply; you’d never spoken so much. To think that you had so much to say, such astute observations… It only reaffirmed his confidence, his respect. No warrior could go without intellect, after all.

“Indeed. Very well, then. I shall have a report compiled regarding her deployment. When I am decided I will send someone for you.” Zenos let one of his arms gesture towards you widely, “Be sure to leave immediately.”

With that, he spun on his heel and walked straight out of the door, setting it shut behind him as he strode down the hall.

The arrangements were in place for that elezen friend of yours – that _Estinien._ Change, you said, was what had made you the person you were. It was plain that man was incapable of change, just from the scant few moments he had overheard from you; always pursuing goals that he could not accomplish. But ones that you could.

If this Estinien had been like you, he would _change._ Become someone who _could_ accomplish his goals. He would seize power as Zenos had, he would seek out the means to accomplish his desires, no matter his obstacles. If a Garlean could use the Resonance, surely this elezen who had some strange power connected to the great beast that was Shinryu – surely he should be able to find his own strength.

And yet he did not. But you were insistent, you saw the worth in this ‘friend’, responded to his accusations as though they had any merit. ‘Twould be remiss of him to dismiss the elezen out of hand.

The trap was laid, the bait set.

The hunt, on.

 

 

 

In absolute darkness, he finds it.

He does not notice at first – it is impossible to notice at first. But as he proceeds towards his goal, the sensation is unmistakable – the sound, the texture, liquid splattered and coating his boots.

It is blood.

There should be no blood here. There should be no _people_ here, bleeding or no; ‘tis impossible to imagine anyone would find their way to this place, let alone anyone so grievously wounded. Whoever they were, they are long dea-

A glint is all it takes. Not a glint – a spark, invisible in the darkness, in black on black, but a spark of _energy,_ nearly tangible in the air as a true ignition might be.

His nature is not one that encourages such curiosities, that drives him to investigate such things, but nonetheless he is compelled. This is strange already, intruding where none should be, in his domain where this was unexpected. ‘Twould be remiss of him not to investigate, especially when it may concern such a thing as a source of power.

And he knows it is, the instant he catches it in his claws, the instant it is in his grasp. Power beyond words, beyond even his own ken. Old, old power. This is more than any of his senses can tell him, more than can be described in any mortal tongue. Scarce has it laid into his palm when the plan takes shape – the possibility. The _opportunity._

How… intriguing.

Most certainly, this will be of use.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *panting heavily* I... updated... this... month... 
> 
> My goal is to update two more times before ShBr, tentatively more, but if I get any heavy work in on the next few chapters I'll call that a victory. At least one. 
> 
> We are getting into the heavy duty plot points, a bunch of stuff I have been foreshadowing, and also things that will be ruined lore-wise when ShBr comes out but hey, that's the life! I should be tagging more characters and stuff but I always have this impression that I over-explain, over-detail things, I don't know when to shut up and it ruins the elegance of things, comes out clunky. Still, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Let me know if you have any predictions, if you think you know what's happened with Asahi, etc. I won't spoil anything but I would be very curious :D


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